


Born Of The Same Impulse

by GwendolynStacy



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Team as Family, Time Travel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Trust Issues, all of them get hugs, all of them need hugs, in this fic we love and cherish all marvel characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynStacy/pseuds/GwendolynStacy
Summary: Barely five minutes into the past and Tony has already taken care of Ultron, thus prevented Sokovia, thus – hopefully – made sure that the Civil War would never happen. All things considered, he was doing pretty well!Then he just had to look up his fellow superhero turned time traveller on the internet.Star Surgeon Involved In Car Crash, Condition Unknown





	1. Chapter 1

The unnatural green glow of the time stone was burned into Tony’s vision when he opened his eyes in his workshop. Bruce Banner stood where Stephen Strange had been before, and his equipment in place of debris and ruins.

 

For a moment, Tony was too stunned to move. 

 

“Don’t give up hope,” Bruce said with a glance at him, misinterpreting his silence and completely oblivious that anything of importance had happened. “I know it’s been a while, but it doesn’t mean Ultron is a failure.”

 

Ultron. The name was enough to dunk ice water over Tony’s head and shake up old, dreaded memories. He opened his mouth to say…  _ something _ , but hesitated. The urge to burn everything related to Ultron made his hands itch. He wanted to tear apart his code until he flickered out of existence, make sure that no one would ever get their hands on the mind stone and forget that Ultron had ever happened. He would be a memory, a nightmare, nothing more.

 

But what if this time, Tony could get it  _ right?  _

 

He knew that the earth needed protection. If anything, it was even clearer to Tony than it had been before. They weren’t enough. They  _ hadn’t  _ been enough. So what if this time, Tony made Ultron work? 

 

“Sir?” JARVIS said,  _ JARVIS,  _ and not FRIDAY, “Are you alright? I detect a spike in your heart rate.”

 

No. Tony clenched his fists, shaken out of his paralysis. Ultron could not –  _ would  _ not – be the answer. “Shut it down,” he forced out, and wow, he sounded awful. “JARVIS, shut it down.”

 

“Tony?” Bruce said, clearly startled.

 

“Sir? I do not follow?”

 

One glance over his workshop showed that they had already finished the extraction from the scepter. They had extracted an  _ infinity stone  _ without realizing – or even knowing what it was. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Tony might have laughed. Any second now, Ultron would become self-sustaining, would become self-aware.

 

It might already be too late.

 

“JARVIS,” Tony barked, this time not leaving room for protest. “Shut down internet access and cut all connections in and out of this lab. Then go to sleep, protocol ‘Safeguard’. Now!”

 

JARVIS powered down without another comment. Tony had never used this override before, and he could feel the jab it sent through his chest: He was basically putting JARVIS into a coma. 

 

But it was better than losing him all over again. 

 

“What did you do that for?” Bruce asked.

 

Tony wasn’t done yet. He leaped forward to pull up Ultron’s code manually, scrolling through it to find a few lines in particular. He resolutely ignored Bruce, knowing that once he paid closer attention to him, he would not be able to concentrate on his task. 

 

“What… Where am I?”

 

Tony froze at the voice that was definitely not Bruce’s, and Bruce breathed out a soft, “Oh.”

 

No. It wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be too late. Ultron had yet to finish starting up, so Tony continued to skim through his code frantically. 

 

“What… are you doing?” The voice sounded sharper now, some of the confusion gone. 

 

“Tony?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t answer, just kept scrolling, kept looking and there…

 

“What are you doing?!” Ultron yelled, and a whirring sound was all the warning Tony got before he had to dodge a repulsor blast.

 

He heard Bruce call out in alarm and leaped up, slamming the delete button a second before another blast fried the keyboard. Everything stopped.

 

“What… I don’t…” 

 

Ultron looked down at his newly acquired body in his equivalent of puzzlement, repulsors forgotten. Nevertheless, Tony put himself in front of Bruce, not letting the AI out of his eyes. Ultron had taken over an Iron Man armor once he had realized that Tony was messing with his code. He probably hadn’t even been aware of it at the moment: It had been a pure survival instinct.

 

“What did you do?” Bruce whispered, peeking over his shoulder to stare at Ultron.

 

“I don’t… I’m not… What did you do?” Ultron said, mirroring Bruce’s question.

 

Tony’s jaw shifted, the words stuck in his throat. Bile rose at the back of his mouth and he had to force himself to go on. “I made a mistake. I wanted to fix it before you woke up.” His hands twitched at his sides restlessly. He realized that he wouldn’t be able to pull up his suit around his body the way he could have before. “I was a bit slow. Sorry.”

 

“Who… Who are you?” Ultron said. “And who… What am I? What is my purpose?”

 

Tony felt Bruce tense in realization. “Tony…”

 

In those seconds, Tony had deleted Ultron’s primary protocol, his sole purpose of existence. Ultron had been created to bring peace, the solution for at least some of the world’s problems. But no matter the intention, Tony had seen how that had turned out.

 

Without it, Ultron was nothing but a clean slate. An AI like JARVIS, but with none of the experience and – as of now – no drive.

 

“What am I?” Ultron repeated. “What is my purpose?” 

 

Tony swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness in his throat. He could end it so easily. He could command Ultron to power down, to delete himself from existence. Everything that had happened before could be stopped, there would be no risks. It would be so _ easy. _

 

Ultron sounded so lost.

 

Tony closed his eyes in defeat. Barely anyone saw it the way he did, but in Tony’s eyes, his AIs were alive. Deleting Ultron would be like murdering him. Worse, ordering him to power down permanently would be like making him commit suicide. 

 

“Vision,” Tony said, ignoring the way his voice cracked. “Your name is Vision.”

 

Ultron – no.  _ Vision  _ didn’t nod or acknowledge his words in the way a human would have. He was too new. He had so much to learn. “What is my purpose?”

 

Tony felt Bruce’s eyes on his back. “Your purpose is to learn.”

 

“I… I don’t understand. Why am I here?”

 

Tony closed his eyes. He needed to give Vision something more concrete. “You’re here to observe. To learn, and to choose your path on your own. To discover who you are.”

 

“I… I am Vision,” he said, and it sounded like a question.

 

“Yes. You’re Vision.” Tony couldn’t help the soft smile. “And everything else will be up to you.”

 

“Tony,” Bruce said, grasping Tony’s upper arm. He had to suppress a flinch. Now that the danger was averted, he couldn’t ignore Bruce anymore. “We did it. He’s alive, you did it!”

 

“Yeah,” Tony said through the static in his ears. That couldn’t be normal. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Bruce was immediately worried. “Tony?” Bruce turned towards him, and suddenly Tony couldn’t take his eyes off him. “Are you alright?”

 

“Always,” Tony whispered, and with the rasp in his voice and his too wide eyes he would have convinced exactly nobody.

 

“You are… unwell?” Vision asked, trying out the word carefully. 

 

“No. No, I’m alright. All good, just peachy.” His head started to spin. Bruce looked at him, all kindness and concern, not a trace of the grief and despair Tony remembered. 

 

Ultron – no, damn it, _Vision_ – came towards them in unpracticed, clumsy steps. He hadn’t been designed to take over the Iron Man armor and almost fell, stiff and unused to having a physical form. He looked so much like _Before_ , Tony couldn’t help but flinch back. He realized that his breath was coming shorter. Black spots danced at the edge of his vision.

 

“That can’t be good,” Tony muttered. 

 

He stumbled back and was caught by Bruce with an alarmed “Tony!”, except that made it worse. Everything had only just started to sink in, but Bruce was like a sledgehammer, pounding in that he was wrong, different, Tony didn’t belong here. This had been a mistake.

 

(But what else had there been left to lose? No matter what Tony would do, no matter how badly he would screw up, it couldn’t possibly get  _ worse _ .)

 

Bruce looked years younger and Ultron was staggering closer and  _ JARVIS was silent  _ and Tony? Tony gave in to the darkness and barely registered Bruce catching him against his side. 

 

* * *

 

When Tony opened his eyes he was greeted by Rhodey sitting at his bedside, and quite frankly, there could not have been a more wonderful sight to wake up to.

 

Tony was somewhat surprised that Rhodey didn’t jump at seeing him awake. He wasn’t even looking at Tony. Instead, and Tony had to arch his neck to get a good look, Rhodey was caught in a staring match with– 

 

“ _ Jesus  _ Christ!” Tony clutched a hand over his chest where his heart threatened to jump out. Why did nobody ever remember that he had a heart condition?

 

“Tony!” Rhodey said, immediately focused on him. “How are you feeling?”

 

Everything rushed back in the matter of seconds. The lab. Bruce. Ultron. And… “Vision,” Tony said, trying to keep the wariness out of his voice. “Is there a reason you’re looming over my bed and watching me sleep? And why you haven’t left the suit?”

 

Vision paused, but took a step back. “I was not aware that I have been… looming.”

 

“He didn’t understand what it means for a human to faint,” Rhodey muttered, a distrustful glance showing what he thought about the situation. “He insisted on staying while you ‘recharged’ and could tell him yourself that you’re okay. 

 

“Putting the matter of you fainting aside,” Rhodey raised his eyebrow in the promise that he would not let it go that easily, “care to explain why your brand new AI is possessing a suit? And why JARVIS is down?”

 

Right. No one except Tony had the clearance to disable the ‘Safeguard’ protocol, once it was activated. Until he did, the tower would remain silent.

 

Tony clenched his teeth at the thought, discomfort churning in his gut. “Right. Okay. Vision, this is Rhodey, Rhodey, this is Vision. We, as in Bruce and me, sort of, kind of, took apart Loki’s scepter, found an alien power source and used it to bring to life my most recent AI?”

 

He cringed at Rhodey’s blatant look of disbelief. Summarizing it like that made it sound like an incredibly dumb idea, Tony had to admit.

 

Rhodey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Vision, brought to life by an alien power source and Loki’s magic. Not quite what Bruce said, but fine. Got it.” His expression changed to spell out ‘don’t bullshit me, Stark’. “Now, how does that translate to you fainting?”

 

“Wonderful question. How about I answer it… never.” Tony was out of his bed and halfway across the room in seconds, leaving Rhodey – and Vision – no choice but to follow. 

 

Instead of escaping, Tony found himself confronted with Pepper and Bruce as soon as he stepped through the door, both of them leaping up from their seats when they saw him.

 

“Seriously? What is this, an intervention?” Tony pushed as much annoyance into his voice as he could in the attempt to cover up everything else. His heart fluttered with badly suppressed emotion and the urge to bury each of them in a hug made his arms twitch. God, he needed to get out of here.

 

“Depends,” Rhodey said, crossing his arms. “Mind telling us what’s going on?” 

 

“I told you. Brucie here and I took a look at the scepter and thought–”

 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Rhodey interrupted. He frowned, a crease forming between his brows. “We’re worried about you, man.”

 

“Enough to call Pepper, apparently.”

 

“Of course he called me,” Pepper said, sporting a frown of her own. Immediately, Tony felt guilty. “You can’t honestly expect us to do nothing when the last time you hid something from us, you almost died.”

 

“What do you mean, he almost died?” Bruce asked.

 

“More like ‘which time’ do you mean,” Rhodey, that traitor, said. “The time with the palladium poisoning or the time he pissed of a terrorist?”

 

“Did you say ‘terrorist’?!” Bruce’s eyes widened in alarm.

 

“In my defence,” Tony couldn’t help but remark, “I tried telling you about that. You fell asleep.”

 

“A whole body scan reveals no signs of poisoning,” Vision chimed in. Apparently he had figured out how to use JARVIS’ sensors and thought that now would be a good moment to put them to use. “However, I detect several other health concerns, including–”

 

“Thanks, Vision,” Tony cut him off. “You can zip it right there.”   
  
“Oh no, do go on,” Rhodey said. 

 

“This can be lesson one of learning to become a socially capable member of society: Privacy and discretion.”

 

“Wow,” Rhodey muttered. “The hypocrisy in that sentence is staggering.”

 

“What we can all take away from this,” Tony said, raising his voice to take control over the situation, “is that nobody has to worry and I’m fine. Pepper, you look stunning as always. Rhodey, light of my life, thanks for showing up.” He laid a hand on Rhodey’s shoulder, going for casual, but another twitch of concern in Rhodey’s expression showed that he was failing spectacularly. 

 

“Now, I appreciate the reunion, but there’s things to do. Bruce, if you don’t mind, show Vision around. Answer his questions. You two will get along just great. JARVIS, pull up information on–” 

 

Tony cut himself off when he realized that JARVIS couldn’t hear him. He clenched his eyes shut, breathing through the tightness in his chest and pulled out his phone to check for the contact information he needed himself.

 

He refused to look up, knowing fully well that Pepper and Rhodey – and, possibly, Bruce – would be exchanging glances. With his luck, it was only a matter of time until they got Vision to join them as well.

 

And really: “I do not understand the finer details of human interaction or… caring.” Vision paused, his words implying that their behavior fascinated him. A quick glance showed that his eyes – or rather, the eerily glowing eye-slits of the Iron Man armor – were stuck on Tony. “However, I find myself… reluctant, to leave your side.”

 

“See?” Rhodey said, and Tony hastily turned back to his phone. “Even your newest robo-child agrees.”

 

“Whatever it is you have planned,” Pepper added, “I’m sure it can wait for a few more hours. Come have something to eat with us, at least.”

 

“I’ve told the others that you were fine,” Bruce piled on, “but they’ll feel better if they saw for themselves. You missed the party.”

 

“You’ll never believe what else you missed,” Rhodey said. “Turns out Mjolnir isn’t just Thor’s, it lifts for anyone who’s–”

 

Tony didn’t hear the rest. Had the phone in his hands been designed by anyone other than himself, it would have cracked under his grip. A headline glared up at him, banning all other thoughts from his mind – including who else currently resided in the tower with him.

 

**_Star Surgeon Involved In Car Crash, Condition Unknown_ **

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is the last one for now! If you liked this premise, you might enjoy my other two Marvel stories, featuring [Nebula and Tony](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032681/chapters/34849343) and [Loki](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15176378/chapters/35194295)!
> 
> Beta'd by the amazing **PyrothTenka** and **To Mockingbird** \- who, once again, came up with the amazing title and graceously allowed me to use it! ^^
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> ~Gwen
> 
> PS: Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!


	2. Chapter 2

It took Tony more than an hour to track Stephen down. The article that had made him leave the tower with a half-baked excuse and the next best armor he could get his hands on had turned out to be several months old, and it had proven a struggle to find much media coverage on the crash beyond it. 

 

By the time he managed to dig up an address, Tony had also found Stephen’s medical files dating back over the last few months. He read up on the extended hospital stays, found several files on experimental operations – and also their considerable (and largely unpaid) bills.

 

Tony resolutely ignored that he had to pull up all the information manually when normally FRIDAY, or, before her, JARVIS would have done it for him.

 

It didn’t take much longer until he reached the right address, and he didn’t bother trying the doorbell. He let himself in and looked around with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Stephen’s life before becoming Sorcerer Supreme had never been heavily discussed – not that Tony had asked – and the idea of the wizard living in an apartment like a regular person was difficult to combine with the image Tony had gotten used to.

 

He hadn’t even known about the car crash the first time around.

 

“Stephen?” Tony called, slowing down as he stepped deeper into the apartment. “Do me a favor and don’t call the cops on me.” It wasn’t like Tony had planned to arrive unannounced. No matter how often he’d tried, Stephen hadn’t picked up the phone, and Tony had to assume that the number he’d found in his medical file wasn’t up to date anymore.

 

His answer came from the next room, and Tony stopped short once he reached the doorway. “There aren’t many people presumptuous enough to invite themselves inside someone’s house just like that, you know?”

 

Stephen, to put it mildly, looked like crap. His external injuries had healed over the months since the accident, but dark shadows laid under his eyes, a stark contrast to the sickly pale tint of his skin. An air of exhaustion surrounded him as he laid tensely on his couch, his hands stuck out awkwardly like he struggled to figure out what to do with them.

 

Tony quickly tore his eyes away from the scarred limbs.

  
“Rocking that Cast Away look, I see. Could have warned a guy, I almost thought I broke into the wrong apartment here.”

 

“Yeah, well.” Stephen spoke in a quiet rasp, raising his hands and forcing Tony’s attention back to them. They trembled violently enough that he had trouble making out the scars running over them. “These make it somewhat difficult to shave without accidentally slicing my throat in the process.”

 

Tony felt a pang in his chest as his throat constricted, and he had to close his eyes. Why couldn’t he ever just  _ think  _ before opening his mouth? “I’m sorry. That wasn’t– Fuck.” He tapped his sternum where his arc reactor used to be, but the motion only managed to rile him up further when he didn’t feel the casing of his Bleeding Edge armor.

 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated – as if anything he could say would make the situation better – but Stephen interrupted before he could talk himself any deeper.

 

His mouth twitched into a weak, almost indiscernible smile. “It’s good to see you, Tony.”

 

“Your hands–”

 

“Can’t be saved. I know.” Stephen looked into a different direction just a bit too deliberately. “I’ve had the past few hours to come to terms with that. Again.”

 

Feeling like he was stepping on thin ice – and already having cracked the surface spectacularly – Tony stayed silent.

 

“Oh please.” Stephen scoffed, and if it weren’t for his unkempt appearance, it would almost make him look like his regular self. “Your silence is making it worse.”

 

“What can I say?” Tony gave a small shrug. “Two sentences in and I’ve already lived up to my reputation. Guess this settles the matter of who’s the bigger asshole of the two of us.”

 

The sound that Stephen made in response could almost count for a chuckle. His features softened as he said, “Sit with me.”

 

Tony took a look around Stephen’s living room – if it could even be called that. It could have come straight out of a catalogue for interior design, stilted and fake without any sort of personal touch. Beside the couch Stephen was lying on, there were only a bunch of pretentious designer chairs. They looked incredibly uncomfortable.

 

Despite looking like every movement caused him pain, Stephen seemed to have the same thought. He scooted up into a sitting position to make space for Tony, although it made him grimace in pain.

 

Tony took the invitation and sat down at his feet, leaning back and letting the tension bleed out of him. As sick as the entire situation made him feel to his stomach, at least with Stephen, he didn’t have to pretend.

 

They sat together in silence for several minutes.

 

“The first time it happened I threw away all of my money in search of a cure,” Stephen finally said, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. “I suppose that is something I can give up on early this time around.”

 

Tony thought back to all those experimental – and risky, not to mention fruitless – operations and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Is that why you went to Karma… Kama… To Hogwarts?”

 

Stephen’s mouth twitched weakly and Tony took it as a minor victory. “Kamar-Taj. And yes. I was desperate and out of options.” A mild chuckle followed. “It was quite literally the last glimmer of hope I had left.”

 

“But it didn’t heal your hands,” Tony said, thinking back to the way Stephen had used magic for even mundane actions. He had never thought to question it. 

 

“No. It didn’t.”

 

Instead he had been given the chance to study magic and become the Sorcerer Supreme. Speak of a career change.

 

“Does it hurt?” Tony asked, no matter how stupid the question felt. One glance could tell him the answer.

 

Nevertheless, Tony was glad when Stephen didn’t try to lie to him. “Not as much as it would have a few months back. But yes.”

 

“How long did it take?” Tony asked. “The first time around?”

 

“To recover?”

 

Tony nodded.

 

Stephen shrugged. “The pain got less over time. I never regained my fine motor skills completely.”

 

“If you could choose,” Tony said, and immediately regretted his words, “would you undo it?” His hands or his magic. His career as a surgeon or Master of the Mystic Arts. His life before and after the accident could not have been more different.

 

Stephen was silent for a long moment. “People think that the only reason I became a doctor was for the fame. And I will admit, that was part of it.” He paused, closing his eyes. Tony had never seen him look this exhausted. “But I genuinely loved what I was doing.”

 

This, at least, was something Tony could understand. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost his hands. Such a huge part of his life was defined by what he could do, and not being able to build, to create… Tony had to suppress a shudder. He didn’t know if he could be strong like Stephen had been.

 

Like he would have to be, again.

 

“I don’t know what I would choose,” Stephen finally admitted. “I’d like to believe that everything that happened made me a better person. But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss it.”

 

He paused, and when he looked up it was clear that the topic was over. “How are you holding up?” he asked instead, and Tony couldn’t suppress an ugly laugh.

 

Here Stephen was, thrown back to the time after his horrific car accident that robbed him of the use of his hands for the second time in his life –  _ lives _ , whatever – and yet he asked if  _ Tony  _ was alright.

 

“I mean it, Tony.”

 

Tony looked away. He realized that he had started tapping his chest again and forced his arm to relax. He missed the Bleeding Edge armor. He felt defenseless without it.

 

“I lost it when I woke up in the lab,” he admitted. Stephen had been nothing but honest with him, so he owed him that much. “Bruce was there, and after I freaked out he brought Pepper and Rhodey. There’s no way they didn’t realize something is wrong, they know me too well.”

 

He paused, trying not to fidget. “Remember that whole Ultron mess? Sokovia? I didn’t screw it up this time. I stopped it.” Well. Sort of.

 

“I don’t remember much of it,” Stephen said slowly. “Back then I didn’t care much about anything except, well.” His eyes flashed to his hands with a self depreciative smile. “Anything I should know?”

 

“Maybe. Even without Ultron, there’s still some loose ends.” 

 

Tony didn’t want to think about it, but there was no guarantee that Vision would turn out the same way he had the first time around. In fact, even though his components were the same – Tony’s and Bruce’s input, Ultron’s coding minus his primary protocol and the mind stone – the circumstances of his birth (for lack of a better word) were entirely different. The first Vision had been thrown directly into conflict. This one, if Tony had anything to say about it, would have the chance to decide for himself which path he wanted to take.

 

There was the mind stone to deal with, not to mention the other infinity stones, and Wanda was still out there, still in the clutches of HYDRA. And, as Tony realized with a pang, her brother.

 

Tony was struggling to decide where to begin when the door to Stephen’s living room swung open and a woman who must have been Christine Palmer walked in, a key to Stephen’s apartment in one hand and a couple of grocery bags in the other. 

 

“I’ve been to the store. Let me know if you need anything– Anything–” She froze at the sight of Tony Stark leaping up from where he’d been sitting on Stephen’s couch. “Else. Um,” she said, eyes wide and mouth half open.

 

Tony gave a weak little wave. “Hi.”

 

“Christine,” Stephen said, but failed to come up with anything else to say. Tony couldn’t blame him. Both of them had been too caught up with each other to expect the interruption.

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

“You’re Tony Stark,” Christine brought out, and shook Tony out of his daze. 

 

“You must be Christine,” he said, letting his mask slide into place. He grabbed for her hand with a confident smile that felt incredibly fake. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard you were a looker, but wow. If I’d known, I would have come to visit sooner.”

 

Christine stared at their linked hands, then at Tony and back at Stephen. “Do you two… know each other?”

 

“We’re acquaintances.”

 

“We’re friends.”

 

They’d spoken at the same time, and the silence that followed was even more awkward.

 

“Friends,” Stephen said, settling the matter. “We’re friends.”

 

“Okay.” Christine hesitated, visibly shaking off her daze. “Um. Look, Stephen. I talked to Doctor West. You know, about that last time you two met at the hospital. And he told me… He, he wanted me to tell you–” 

 

“Right,” Stephen muttered, closing his eyes. “Could you ask him to come over?”

 

“I– What?”

 

“West. Could you ask him to come here? I’d like to talk to him myself.”

 

Christine’s expression grew strained. “Stephen… It wasn’t his fault.”

 

“I know.” 

 

“He did everything– He– What did you say?”

 

“I said I know.” Stephen avoided her gaze, and while Tony had never heard of a “Doctor West”, he could guess that there was history between them. There was some bitterness lining his sentence that Stephen failed to cover up. “I’m sure he did everything he could.” 

 

“That’s not what you said before.” Christine stared at Stephen in disbelief. “The entire hospital knows that you’re blaming him. And you’re using every opportunity to remind him.”

 

Stephen closed his eyes, an emotion flickering over his face that Tony failed to place. “I know. I know. And I’m… I’m sorry.” The words seemed clunky and stiff, like Stephen had trouble speaking them out loud. Nevertheless, he powered through. “It’s been… difficult. After the accident, I was confused. And scared. I focused my anger on him, and I shouldn’t have.”

 

He opened his eyes and looked at Christine. “And not at you, either.”

 

Tony debated leaving the room when Christine started to tear up, and even more so when she put a hand on Stephen’s shoulder. He stepped further back, trying to give them at least the illusion of privacy. He felt incredibly uncomfortable, but he also trusted in Stephen to tell him when he was intruding. 

 

“There are options, Stephen,” Christine continued, a shaky smile on her lips. “Don’t give up hope.”

 

Tony’s chest constricted uncomfortably and his eyes dropped to the floor so he wouldn’t have to look at Stephen’s horribly fake looking smile. “I know,” he said. “Thank you, Christine.” Both of them knew better.

 

Christine didn’t stay long after that, wiping her eyes as she left Stephen’s apartment.

 

They sat in silence, neither of them acknowledging the cruel reminder of Stephen’s fate that Christine had unintentionally dropped. It wasn’t fair. 

 

In the end, Tony settled for a, “She seems nice.”

 

“She deserves better.”

 

Tony didn’t answer. He knew that feeling far too well. 

 

Something occurred to him then, and he gladly changed the topic from their mutual inability to form and hold onto meaningful social relationships. “Can you use your magic? Or is it something you have to relearn?” Despite having watched Stephen use his powers countless times, he didn’t actually know how they worked. 

 

Stephen frowned, contemplating. “I can’t use it with my thoughts alone. I will have to practice to make it work with these.”

 

Tony hadn’t expected anything else. The way his hands looked now, all of the gestures and motions Tony had come to connect with his magic would have to be incredibly painful.

 

“After that, it should come easier to me.” Something flashed through his eyes, something so utterly vulnerable that Tony wanted to look away. He didn’t allow himself to. “I didn’t handle physiotherapy well the first time around.”

 

Tony could tell that he wasn’t done, so he waited.

 

“I was far more obsessed with finding a cure and refused to accept that I would have to live with these.” Stephen’s lips twisted with a glance at his hands. “My money wasn’t the only thing I lost, back then.”

 

“Christine?” Tony asked, thinking back on all the times he had pushed away the people that he loved. 

 

Stephen confirmed his thoughts with a nod. “She was so patient. Too patient. But even she couldn’t bear my self-pity forever.”

 

“You’ve changed since then,” Tony pointed out. He hesitated, then added, “And Christine isn’t the only one at your side this time around.”

 

There was a pause, and what followed looked like Stephen’s first completely genuine smile. It didn’t manage to chase away the exhaustion and pain in his expression, but it made him look tremendously more like himself. “I know. The same goes to you.”

 

Tony thought that perhaps, they just might make it through this.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Next update on **September 15**!
> 
> ~Gwen


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed in Stephen’s apartment without either of them acknowledging that Tony would not be able to stay forever. As long as he was there they could pretend like nothing had changed, could pretend like everything had gone according to plan and left them in the perfect position to prevent most of the next several years from happening. 

 

But at the end of the day there wasn't much of a choice. They had to accept that Stephen was in no shape to do much of anything beside concentrate on his recovery, and Tony had too much else on his plate to stay for most of it. 

 

There were no hard feelings about it. Stephen knew what was at stake, he knew it wasn’t personal. That did not, of course, make it any easier to leave.

 

Tony caught himself procrastinating on his way back to the tower. There was a reason he’d left so quickly in the first place – he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it as him fleeing – and everything inside of him itched to fly elsewhere, to avoid the confrontation for just a few hours more.

 

Bruce, Pepper and Rhodey had been difficult enough, and Tony wasn’t even going to think about the headache that Vision was shaping up to be. But there was also  _ them. _ The Avengers. The pre-divided, pre-Civil War earth’s mightiest heroes, Tony’s friends before he had dealt the first blow of breaking them apart, of screwing everything up. 

 

Tony grit his teeth, forcing himself to speed up the suit. Even for his old, far too clunky design, he was going at an embarrassingly slow speed. He was being ridiculous.

 

_ ‘Meet me in the common room’, _ he forced himself to type out as a mass-text,  _ ‘Team meeting. -TS’.  _ He hesitated, then added,  _ ‘If there’s anything that didn’t survive yesterday’s party you’ve got 10 min left to fix it.’ _

 

With that out of the way, he finished the rest of the flight surrounded by the suffocating silence that JARVIS’ absence left in its wake.

 

Before Tony could allow himself to obsess over the reunion for longer, he entered the tower and went straight into the common area with the feeling of walking towards his own execution. 

 

Perhaps he was being just a tad dramatic.

 

And there they were. Just like that, his old team. They looked so different from what he remembered and yet so  _ painfully,  _ nostalgically familiar. 

 

There was Rhodey – not yet, technically, a member – keeping to the background with his arms crossed. 

 

Thor, his hair long and his eye uncovered, Mjolnir lying on the table in front of him and entirely unconcerned about the documents and, from the looks of it, the Stark tablet it held captive underneath.

 

Bruce hovered awkwardly next to Vision, who was eerily still in his Iron Man armor. Steve – beardless and out of uniform – did a bad job of hiding the wary glances he kept shooting the AI, while Natasha – her hair radiantly red – was sprawled out on one of the couches with a gossip magazine, looking at ease and casual.

 

They looked so peaceful. Gone was the air of exhaustion and grief, gone the tension of bad blood and history between them.

 

Tony’s left arm throbbed, and although he knew that it was all in his head, he struggled not to react. 

 

“Oh, you’re here,” Clint called from where he entered the room, a pack of Twinkies held in one hand and throwing a second pack with the other. He nailed the throw without looking, and Thor caught it with ease. “Aren’t you gonna take off the suit?”

 

“It’s a new model,” Tony said, the lie slipping over his lips far too effortlessly. “I’m breaking it in.”

 

In retrospect, he regretted choosing the common area as a meeting place. It hadn’t looked this way in a long time, personal and lived in, traces of each of his team members strewn around.

 

The TV sported an abandoned game of Mario Kart, and the small heap of broken controllers and the chosen track – Rainbow Road – had Tony believing that somebody had tried to introduce Thor to the game. He’d almost forgotten the ridiculously huge stack of spare controllers he’d been forced to keep in the tower, back in the day.

 

An empty smoothie cup was left on the table, the sweet, fruity kind that Cap liked, and Tony was sure that if he went looking, he would find knives and small projectiles hidden in strategic places all around the tower.

 

Tony forced himself to keep his eyes on his team before he had the chance to spot more. “We need to talk,” he said, and made an effort not to tense as the others gave him their full attention.

 

“You don’t say,” Clint said cheerfully, dropping down on Natasha’s couch and leaning back against her legs. She let it happen with a twitch of her lips, and Clint kept talking. “You missed the chance to become king of Asgard, you know?”

 

Tony almost missed his cue of shooting back a remark. “I’ll pass. Or not; I could have Pepper rule in my stead and show up only for the banquets.”

 

“Of course you would.” Clint smirked, offering Natasha a Twinkie by holding it over his shoulder. She took it. “Who’d take care of your company?”

 

“Please,” Tony scoffed. “Why would I need a company if I owned an entire realm?”

 

“Do not take offense,” Thor chimed in, grinning at them widely, “but Mjolnir has spoken and I shall keep the right to the throne. Unless you wish to attempt to lift her as well? Be my guest.”

 

He gestured towards Mjolnir in good-natured banter, and Tony already had a remark prepared. It was so  _ easy _ to slip back into their old dynamic, back into their friendship before time and conflict had corrupted it. Unfortunately (or not?), Rhodey was quicker.

 

“Tony. Stop deflecting.” His voice was soft, his brows furrowed in thinly veiled concern. Guilt tore at Tony’s gut sharp and ragged.

 

“He’s right. This isn’t what we came for,” Steve said, letting just enough authority seep through to show that he was serious, despite the smile tugging at his lips. He turned to Tony and asked, “Are you alright?” thus managing to completely derail Tony’s thought process.

 

“Um. Yeah. Yeah, of course. Never better, why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Natasha arched an eyebrow, but was missing the harsh edge around her mouth. She almost looked  _ playful  _ (a thought Tony would never ever share with another soul. Contrary to popular belief, he was not actively suicidal). “You mean aside from missing out on the party, Pepper and Rhodes showing up and nobody else catching a glimpse of you for hours?”

 

“Not to mention _ that _ .” Clint shot a pointed glance towards Vision, still, oddly, maneuvering the Iron Man armor. JARVIS – and even FRIDAY – had taken control of them countless of times, but neither of them had ever expressed the intent to stay inside of them for longer than necessary.

 

“First of all, Vision’s a ‘he’,” Tony started. There would be no disrespecting his AIs in his building, thank you very much. “Second of all, I was… busy.”

 

“Busy,” Steve repeated, and once again, Tony was momentarily taken aback at how it sounded exasperated more than it sounded angry. “You mean busy messing around with the scepter without telling us.”

 

“Right. About that,” Tony said, covering up a wince. His team reacted to the change in atmosphere: Clint straightened up, Steve frowned and Rhodey took a step forward, his arms still crossed. Tony forced himself to keep going. “This is why I asked you to come. I think the scepter is far more dangerous than we originally thought.”

 

There was silence. 

 

“Is that why you locked down the lab before you left?” Bruce asked.

 

Tony almost grimaced. “I didn’t want to risk anything before I had the chance to fill you in.”

 

“Then why did you leave in the first place?” Rhodey asked.

 

“Doesn’t matter.” Tony didn’t want to lie more than he had to, but for now, Stephen would remain his secret. “The point is, I don’t think it would be a good idea to leave the scepter out of our sight.”

 

Thor frowned, taking on a thoughtful expression. “And why is that?”

 

“Look, I studied it. And what I found…” Tony cut himself off, starting anew. “The basic gist of it is that the scepter is powered by something else. Something almost sentient. And I think it is far more powerful than we realized at first.”

 

Clint raised an eyebrow. “So why did you use it for Hal over there?”

 

“I resent that,” Tony deadpanned even as he tried not to cringe. That sentence had been far too close to the truth for comfort. “And by the time I realized, it was already too late. Vision was in the middle of his start-up.”

 

“You shut down your AI and other connections so I would not be overwhelmed,” Vision said, making everybody around him tense. There was something akin to realization in his voice. “Everything was… confusing, at first. It still is. I don’t know what would have happened, had I tried to process such a massive amount of data so soon.”

 

He paused, the faceplate of Iron Man’s suit tilting. “Perhaps even this was too great of a risk.”

 

“Vision,” Tony started, protectiveness pulsing through his body, but Bruce was quicker.

 

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and sounded surprised at himself for speaking up. And yet, he did not back down. “I’ve had the past few hours to spend with Vision. He’s already moved past all of my expectations. I know, there was JARVIS, but…” He smiled, soft and genuine. “Watching him develop from the start is something else.”

 

There was a pause. 

 

“Okay,” Steve said, finally. “Whatever happened, happened. We’ll deal with it. In the meantime…” He turned to Thor. “What do you think? You were supposed to take the scepter with you, and it was Loki who brought it in the first place. You’re our best bet to find out more about it.”

 

Tony kept his mouth shut. It wouldn’t do to reveal that he knew more than he should be able to, not this early on. With his luck, the others might end up theorizing he was under the scepter’s influence. 

 

Thor paused thoughtfully. “If what you say is true…” He shared a glance with Tony. “What you describe sounds familiar. May I see your studies on the scepter?”

 

Tony pulled up holograms of his notes wordlessly. Once upon a time he might have cracked a joke, but he was aware that Thor was far more intelligent than people gave him credit for. He didn’t come from an advanced alien society for nothing.

 

“This energy bears similarities to the tesseract,” Thor noted eventually, and in contrast to his somber tone, Tony felt relief coursing through his body. He would have brought it up himself if he had to, but it was easier coming from Thor.

 

“The tesseract?” Steve asked, immediately alarmed. “But the tesseract is–”

 

“An unlimited energy source with capabilities we can’t even begin to dream of,” Tony finished. Good to know that even lacking experience with the infinity stones, his team had a rough idea of what was at stake. 

 

“So you’re saying the scepter might be similar?” Rhodey asked.

 

“I’m saying that whatever the scepter contains is.” Tony pulled up some of the readings, for Thor and Bruce more than for the others. “The scepter might be nothing but a vessel. Something to harness the power that lies within. Who knows, the tesseract might be, too.”

 

Thor looked up sharply.

 

“What is it?” Natasha asked. “You just realized something.”

 

“I remembered something,” Thor murmured, paying only half attention. “Perhaps…” Thor shot up without another word, grabbing Mjolnir off of the table.

 

“Woah,” Tony said, “Thor? Buddy? Care to share with the class?”

 

“I need to go.”

 

Steve straightened up with an alarmed expression. “What? Thor, wait–” 

 

“Hopefully, I will return bearing answers.”

 

“Thor,” Steve tried again, hurrying after him. “Wait. Talk to us.”

 

But Thor had already reached the window and flung himself out without another word of farewell. Tony wasn’t any less taken aback as everybody else was. That hadn’t gone according to plan.

 

“Sooo,” Clint said, drawing out the word obnoxiously. “What do we do now?”

 

Steve sighed, radiating exasperation. Nevertheless, he made a decision. “We’ll have to guard it until Thor comes back.” He turned, looking straight at Tony. “Tony, Bruce. Try to find out more about it if you can. If it really is as powerful as the tesseract…” He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. “Just make sure it won’t blow up in our faces.”

 

And that was that. Tony had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be trusted by his team to such a degree, and it almost made him feel guilty about all the things he was currently hiding from them. 

 

Almost. Tony knew that if they were to find out, he would immediately lose that trust. 

 

By now, Clint had taken Steve’s order as the dismissal that it was and had decided that the team meeting was officially over. “You know what we haven’t done in far too long?” he asked and, not waiting for an answer, “Movie night. Hey Cap, what’s next on your list?”

 

“Uh…” Instead of the dismissive answer Tony almost expected, Steve started to dig through his pockets in search of said list. Before he could find it, Natasha answered in his stead.

 

“We were almost through with Disney.” Clint’s expression brightened up, and Natasha added, “We are not watching Brave again.”

 

At once, Clint’s face fell. “Come on! That movie is a masterpiece.”

 

Steve looked genuinely confused. “Didn’t you complain about how inaccurate the archery in it was?”

 

“So? It’s still a Disney movie about archery!”

 

“I am not listening to that again,” Natasha said, the ‘or else’ unspoken but no less threatening.

 

“It doesn’t have to be Disney,” Steve tried, ever the diplomat between them. 

 

“The Incredibles!” Clint shouted, straightening up like he was electrocuted. “How have we not watched The Incredibles yet?”

 

“The Incredibles?” Steve asked.

 

Natasha shrugged. “Fine by me.”

 

All of a sudden, Tony felt the overwhelming need to distance himself from his team. Nausea churned in his stomach, and a bitter taste lingered in his mouth. He couldn’t listen to this.

 

“As much fun as this sounds, I think Cap gave me something to do.” He patted Bruce’s shoulder on his way out of the room. “I’ll be fine. Feel free to join them. Take Vision, he could use some exposure to pop culture. And team bonding.”

 

“Tony…”

 

“I’ll see you. Enjoy.”

 

Tony all but fled the room, and felt Rhodey’s eyes on his back. He would deal with him later. For now… For now, Tony desperately needed some time alone.

 

Well, not entirely.

 

He stepped out of his armor and into the workshop and caught a glance of DUM-E and U, cowering near their charging stations in an oddly anxious way. Both of them came rushing at him as soon as they noticed he was there.

 

“Alright, alright,” Tony said, frowning as he reached out to pat DUM-E’s arm. The bot clutched at his jacket with an alarmingly frantic whir. “What’s wrong, buddy? I haven’t been gone for that long.”

 

U crowded in at him from the other side, and before Tony could make sense of it, both of the bots started tugging and pushing at him. “What’s gotten into you? Do I have to threaten to take you apart again? Because I swear, I– Oh.”

  
Tony closed his eyes, coming to a halt in front of the control panel his bots had urged him towards. “Right,” he said, giving in to the impulse of laying a reassuring hand on each of his bots. It was for his own sake as much as for theirs. “It’s been quiet in here, hasn’t it?” 

 

Metaphorically, that was. His bots did not communicate through words; they did not need to. The two must have felt it the second that JARVIS had powered down, and since they had never before been cut off from their more advanced brother, of course they must have panicked. 

 

Tony swallowed at the dryness in his throat. “There was a flaw in JARVIS’ programming,” he lied. “I need to make sure that everything is perfect before I wake him up.”

 

DUM-E lowered his claw with a sad little hum and U let go of his shirt. At least they weren’t panicking anymore, although it was clear that none of them were happy with the development. 

 

Tony sunk down at his workbench and allowed himself a moment to simply sit and breathe. At last there were no expectations, no need for his mask, no need to pretend. It was just him and his bots.

 

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

 

He pulled up the folder containing the blueprints for his suits, his as of yet severely lacking notes on prosthetics, fine motor skills and physiotherapy, and an empty timeline waiting to be filled with the potential events of the next several years.

 

He had work to do.

 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought!
> 
> ~Gwen


	4. Chapter 4

Stephen dropped the mask as soon as Tony closed his apartment door behind him. It was not that his presence hadn’t helped – because it had, tremendously so. But there was only so much optimism he could muster when he was quite literally living through his worst nightmare for the second time in as many lives.

 

Perhaps he was being stupid. After everything that he had lived through – after Kaecilius, Dormammu and _Thanos_ – this should not even rank on the list.

 

Stephen closed his eyes so he would not have to look at his hands. The sight of them made him feel physically sick – and he didn’t even know why. It had been ages since he had last seen them whole and unscarred, there was barely a difference to what it had been like hours prior.

 

Except that there was.

 

Stephen raised his hands, twisting his fingers into the gesture that would make magic flow through them soothingly and familiar. Liquid fire coursed through them instead, breaking his form with a hiss before so much as a spark could appear.

 

“Damn it,” Stephen muttered, scowling down at his broken limbs. He knew that, technically, he didn’t need his hands for it to work, but he had never quite gotten the hang of it to that degree.

 

Suddenly unable to stay still, Stephen heaved himself up from his couch. He needed to do something. Anything. Frustration burned in his throat, making him grit his teeth almost painfully.

 

Stephen chose that moment to let his eyes fall onto the grocery bags Christine had brought him – and forgotten to put away. His hands instinctively twitched forward to do it himself, jerking to a halt with a flash of bitterness.

 

Experience told him that his hands would not allow him to complete even that simple of a task. There were not many things they would allow him to do, and old frustration made it seem pointless to even try.

 

It was pathetic. Stephen was pathetic.

 

But there was more. Stephen frowned, stepping closer to what looked like a heap of brochures and post it notes. Contact information was written on them in neat handwriting. Of course.  

 

Back when more and more operations had turned up fruitless, when Stephen’s condition looked more and more permanent, Christine had it taken onto herself to look for alternatives. Specifically, she had started to look into hospitals that might offer… _alternate_ positions for a surgeon that could no longer perform surgery.

 

Stephen scoffed, looking down at the various phone numbers Christine would undoubtedly encourage him to try. As if he could ever be content with a teaching position. Or, worse, _consulting_. Please.

 

A pity position, that’s what it would be. A way for him to pretend like he was making a difference, when in reality, he was stuck on the sidelines while other people did his job. As if it could ever replace what Stephen had lost.

 

No, he far preferred a clean start than desperately holding onto a shred of what he had once been.

 

Stephen hesitated, his gaze slipping to the noteboard that Christine had placed on his wall once upon a time. It was impossible to overlook – which was, of course, the point – and contained the old routines he’d been given by his physiotherapist to follow at home as often as he could. Ideally they were designed to relearn movement in his limbs, and to improve his fine motor functions.

 

Stephen tore his eyes away, settled at the table and tried again to conjure his magic.

 

* * *

 

“How long has it been now?” Pepper asked, her voice clipped tightly over the phone.

 

“Since what? Since he’s come out? Had something to eat? Interacted with anyone other than the bots?”

 

“All of it.”

 

Rhodey sighed. “Too long.” He watched Tony through the glass door of his workshop, but made no move to enter. He’d already tried to persuade, lure, guilt and blackmail Tony into coming out (not to mention several combinations thereof) – unsuccessfully. Clearly, Rhodey needed to up his game.

 

“You know it’s bad when even the bots try to get him to stop.”

 

“They are?” Pepper asked. “Since when do they have any grasp of how humans work?”

 

“Dunno. But DUM-E’s being very insistent about him taking a break.” Rhodey watched as the bot stubbornly nudged a pillow towards Tony, ignoring his attempts to wave him away.

 

Rhodey couldn’t suppress a laugh when the pillow smacked Tony in his face. He could almost hear DUM-E’s angry whir.

 

“Any luck?”

 

“They’re doing their best, but… no.” Tony had already turned back to one of his projects – who even knew what he was working on, these days – and Rhodey’s mood sobered quickly. “It’s been days, Pepper. I don’t think he exchanged more than a few words at a time with any of the team.”

 

“I’m worried about him.” There was a sigh on the other line, a defeated, tired sound. “I’m supposed to be leaving for the business trip soon. I might just cancel the whole thing. What if this is another Mandarin situation? Or worse…”

 

“I’m looking into it. I’m not leaving until I’ve gotten answers,” Rhodey promised, and tried not to think too hard about the Mandarin. He still had nightmares about exploding houses and exploding people, about sitting in front of the TV and watching helplessly as his best friend fought and lost.

 

It was nothing compared to what Tony was dealing with.

 

“Have you talked to Steve lately?” Pepper asked next.

 

“I’ve been kind of distracted. Why?”

 

“He’s been asking about Tony. Very insistently.”

 

Her dry tone made Rhodey snort, despite how serious the situation was. “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry, Pepper. I got this.”

 

What Rhodey wouldn’t give to make that sentence the truth.

 

Steve wasn’t difficult to find once he entered the penthouse, talking to Sam and hovering close to the elevator that led down to Tony’s workshop. Whatever they were talking about, their conversation fizzled out as soon as they spotted Rhodey.

 

“Colonel,” Steve greeted, and a small, deeply buried part of Rhodey that was still stuck in his Captain America fanboy stage roared its head proudly at the respectful address.

 

The rest of him desperately hoped that Tony would never, ever find out about it. He would never let it go.

 

Out loud, he said, “I told you you don’t have to call me that.”

 

“You call me Captain,” Steve said, lips quirking in a smile.

 

Rhodey shrugged. “Everybody does.” He shared a nod with Sam and crossed his arms when neither of them made a move to relocate to the sitting areas.

 

Steve got to the point quickly. “What’s wrong with Tony?”

 

“What he meant to say,” Sam said with a side glance at Steve, “is ‘Hey Rhodey! We haven’t heard from Tony in a while and I’m getting worried. Is everything alright?’”

 

Rhodey bit his cheek to hold back a laugh at the dirty glance Steve sent Sam. The amusement didn’t hold, and Rhodey sighed. “Alright, look… Tony, he’s… he’s been dealing with some stuff.”

 

“Superhero stuff? Or personal?”

 

“... Both. Kind of.”

 

“Rhodey,” Steve said, his voice earnest and concerned in a way that made Rhodey appreciate that he wasn’t the only one worrying about his best friend. “He knows he can ask us for help any time, right? If he’s in trouble–”

 

“Cap, this… this isn’t a problem you can punch away. Trust me, otherwise I would have taken care of it.” Enthusiastically.

 

“What then?” Sam asked. “Considering that he supposedly lives here, it’s a bit weird that I haven’t gotten more than a few glimpses of him.”

 

Sam had become somewhat of a frequent visitor to the tower, despite not technically being part of the team. (Yet.) With how often Steve insisted on including him in their training – not that anybody was complaining – it was fairly obvious that he was pushing for him to join, in the same way that Tony had been pushing for Rhodey.

 

“Rhodey, please.” Steve held his gaze, and Rhodey felt his reluctance falter. “If something’s wrong, you have to tell us.”

 

Rhodey let out a sigh. With how private Tony was, every bit of information that he revealed felt like a breach of privacy. But he needed to tell them _something_.

 

“Look, Cap. You’ve been in the military. We all have,” he added with a glance at Sam. “You know how sometimes, people finish serving, but they never really leave the trenches?” He hesitated, contemplating whether to elaborate. In the end he settled for, “Some things stay with you. And they can change you.”

 

“Oh.” Sam’s expression tightened in a way that told Rhodey he’d gotten exactly what he’d meant.

 

Steve was more hesitant. “But… but Tony isn’t a soldier.”

 

Sam answered in Rhodey’s stead, and Rhodey’s respect for him grew exponentially. “Sometimes you don’t have to be.”

 

There was silence as Steve considered Sam’s words, and Rhodey decided that he’d done his job. He already felt like he’d revealed too much, but at least now there was somebody to explain the situation to Steve, should he ask.

 

Thinking of it, hadn’t Sam mentioned something about working with veterans? Didn’t he have experience with that particular kind of trauma? Perhaps if he could talk to Tony, he could…

 

No. Rhodey shook off the thought with a sigh. Sam wasn’t here to be their personal therapist, and asking him to be wouldn’t be fair to him.

 

But Rhodey needed to do something. The truth was, he was terrified. Tony’s recent behavior was far too close to the other occasions that had almost ended with Rhodey having to bury his best friend. The isolation, his strange, secret projects and his refusal to interact with anyone – none of it was new.

 

Not to mention the far more concerning warning sign. Rhodey flashed a glance to where he knew the nearest surveillance camera was.

 

Something was up, and Rhodey was growing antsy as Tony refused to open up about anything. It was time to change his approach.

 

* * *

 

Tony should have known that something was up. He should have known that when even his bots started to go mother hen on him, his friends of flesh and blood would not be far behind.

 

He should have especially made an effort to appear more, well, _normal_ after the conversation he’d had with Pepper, just before sending her off to her business trip.

 

“I can stay, you know. It wouldn’t take more than a phone call.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tony said, leaning into her embrace as she offered it.

 

“I mean it, Tony. At least until… well. Until everything’s blown over.”

 

Tony didn’t know what she meant with “everything”, but he didn’t ask for clarification. No need to give her more proof of how utterly out of the loop he was. “I’m seeing a whole new side of you here. Getting tired of taking care of my company, are you?”

 

“ _Our_ company,” Pepper corrected, trying to hide a smile and failing. “And you know better than that.”

 

“What can I say? You’ve been doing a magnificent job. Have you given yourself a raise lately?”

 

Pepper chuckled under her breath, smiling softly as she looked at him. Without wearing the armor, their eyes were on the same level. “I know something’s going on,” she said, her smile dampening. “I’m not going to press. But do me a favor and talk to someone. Rhodey is here, and the team, and… you know you can always call me. You know that, don’t you?”

 

“I know,” Tony said, and hated the way Pepper’s smile fell as she caught the lie. She knew him too well. Nevertheless, she let it go.

 

DUM-E chose that moment to bump into Pepper from behind, half of the smoothie he was carrying spilling on her cream-colored dress. Instead of getting angry, Pepper let out a fond, exasperated sigh. “You forgot the lid.”

 

She reached out to pat DUM-E’s arm and said, “You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”

 

DUM-E raised his claw with an enthusiastic chirp, and Tony wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted that Pepper trusted his clumsy idiot of a bot more to take care of him than Tony himself.

 

The smoothie, while not containing motor oil, turned out to be spinach, kale and not much else. Tony grimaced after the first sip, but drank all of it under DUM-E’s eager gaze.

 

Instead of taking the hint and frantically doing damage control, like he should have, Tony stayed. He didn’t leave his workshop for more than a few minutes at a time, didn’t talk to anybody more than what was necessary to get them off his back, and spent much of his days in a sleep-deprived, caffeine induced haze.

 

There was so much that needed to be done. There were his archaically underdeveloped suits, the Iron Legion and everything that could possibly help during Stephen’s recovery. Zemo was out there, the Accords were being drafted, the twins were with HYDRA and, and, and…

 

Not to mention the nightmares he was sure to have, if he tried sleeping.

 

All in all it took him almost a week before he realized that he hadn’t been alone in his workshop for more than a few hours at a time.

 

It had started out simple enough. Rhodey would bring him food into the workshop, drawing so little attention to himself that sometimes the only reason Tony caught onto it at all was that the food wasn’t lethal enough to have been brought by his bots.

 

His visits to the workshop were casual enough that half of the time Tony didn’t notice his presence until he heard Rhodey’s “Heads up!”, dodged U’s misaimed tennis ball and found the two of them playing fetch.

 

Additionally, Tony would bet that he could thank Rhodey for his team’s uncharacteristic lack of nosiness.

 

Because the whole thing was so subtle, it took Tony a week to realize that Rhodey should have been back with the Air Force days ago.

 

“Okay,” Tony said eventually. “Spill. What’s the big idea here?”

 

Rhodey had the gall to look up from his phone with a raised eyebrow, sprawled out on Tony’s favorite couch. “What do you mean?”

 

“Look, you know you’re my favorite person, which means you won’t take this the wrong way. What the fuck are you still doing here?”

 

“I’m on sick leave,” Rhodey said, holding eye contact and somehow keeping a straight face. “Can’t you see that I’m bedridden?” His phone showed a paused game of angry birds. A half-empty bag of chips was balanced on his knee.

 

“You’re kidding,” Tony said, because _what?_

 

“Nope. I’m on leave for an unspecified period of time.”

 

“Did you talk to Pepper? Because she told me to talk to someone before leaving. But this? This is extreme, even for you guys.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Rhodey sat up, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “You think that’s extreme? Even considering that the last time you hid something from us, it ended with you being presumed dead for several days?”

 

Tony flinched. Apparently, Rhodey wasn’t planning on pulling his punches.

 

“You could have asked me,” Tony pointed out instead of responding.

 

Rhodey snorted. “Please. You’ve come close to dying how many times without telling somebody by now?”

 

“I feel like I should feel insulted by that.”

 

“You know that I’m right.”

  
“Do tell,” Tony said, because he’d been wondering, “what makes you think something’s wrong this time?” It was hardly the first time Tony had retreated into self-inflicted isolation on a working-binge. And it couldn’t have been Vision who tipped him off; Rhodey had been present for the birth of each of his AIs, and by all rights shouldn’t be alarmed about yet another.

 

“Tony,” Rhodey said, his voice soft and oddly careful. “JARVIS is still down.”

 

Oh.

 

Tony closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to hold eye contact. “Something came up. A flaw in his programming,” Tony repeated, but contrary to DUM-E and U, Rhodey was not that easily fooled.

 

“Hmh,” he hummed, one eyebrow pointedly raised.

 

Tony couldn’t blame him. In all the years that Rhodey had known him – which was almost a decade longer than JARVIS had existed in the first place – the AI had never been shut down. Unless it had been out of their control, JARVIS had never left Tony’s side, had never left him alone.

 

Except that he had. Permanently. In another reality, where Vision had not been able to turn Ultron into something other than what he had become.

 

And that, so Tony suspected, had to be the cause of his irrational spike in anxiety whenever his finger hovered over the button that would reactive JARVIS. Keeping him on lockdown meant keeping him silent, but it also meant keeping him secured. It meant keeping him safe.

 

“So,” Rhodey said, breaking the silence. “We’ve established your unwillingness to share. Care to break the habit?”

 

Tony was silent. How could he make his friend realize that this once, Tony genuinely _couldn’t_ talk about what was wrong? Not without being branded a raving lunatic.

 

Rhodey closed his eyes, and Tony wasn’t sure what hurt more: seeing the resignation or the utter lack of surprise on Rhodey’s face. “Well, I’ll be here. For whenever you need me.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” Tony burst out before he could hold himself back. “Stay, I mean. You shouldn’t risk your job for me like this.”

 

All it earned him was a snort from Rhodey. “Please. Unless I actively try to blow up the White House, there’s not much I can do to get fired.”

 

Tony blinked. And did it again. “Excuse me, but _what_?”

 

Rhodey sent him a look that screamed ‘Are you serious right now?’ “Tony. I’m a Colonel. I outrank Cap by several ranks.”

 

“I mean. I _know_ that, I just…” Hadn’t really thought about what that meant? Had never thought about it in depth?

 

“Back in Afghanistan I kept the search for you going for three months when the military wanted to stop after one. I’m ranked just below a General. And I’m the only one beside you who can fly the War Machine armor. I’m not exactly a standard employee anymore.”

 

“Huh. I mean, that’s–”

 

“Besides, with the amount of shit I get dragged into at your side – _no,_ don’t even start. I forbid you from using anything I’m saying right now as fuel for your self-blaming complex.”

 

“I wasn’t–”

 

“The point is, there’s far worse that has to happen than me skipping a few days.”

 

“Huh.” Tony… didn’t actually know what to say to that.

 

“And after sick leave runs out, I’ll just claim to be,” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice in a practiced way that made Tony wonder how often he’d done this before, “ _managing an important contact._ ”

 

Snark and sarcasm clicked into place naturally for Tony. “Aww, how sweet. You think I’m important.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Rhodey deadpanned instead of doing the polite thing and saying something sarcastic in response.

 

Tony’s smirk slipped from his face as quickly as it had formed. He tried to keep his face void of emotion, but it was difficult when affection battled guilt vigorously enough to feel like a punch to the gut.

 

Rhodey – bless him – didn’t force him to come up with a response when he was so utterly at a loss. He raised the hand that was still holding the tennis ball, causing U to look up with a hopeful chirp. “So, are you gonna help me teach your kid how to catch properly, or do I have to do all the parenting around here on my own?”

 

Tony felt his resolve crumble quicker than it would have taken his Bleeding Edge armor to disassemble. He let himself fall onto the couch with a huff and made sure that his elbow poked uncomfortably into Rhodey’s side while he was at it. The bastard didn’t even give him the satisfaction to react.

 

“Fine. If it means we’re done with our little slumber talk.”

 

“Oh, don’t think this means you’re off the hook.” Rhodey tossed the tennis ball over, and Tony caught it with ease. “I’m not afraid to bring out the big guns to get you out of here.”

 

“The big guns? What, are you gonna put on your armor and _carry_ me out?”

 

Rhodey let out a snort. “As if I need the armor for that. Nah. I mean the _big_ guns. You gonna start throwing any time soon?”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes at Rhodey’s smirk, but gave in and tossed the tennis ball towards an eagerly waiting U.

 

Whatever it was that Rhodey had up his sleeve, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it?

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Famous last words, Tony :P
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought!
> 
> ~Gwen


	5. Chapter 5

Rhodey’s secret weapon turned out to be far more devious than Tony could have ever imagined. He didn’t try to forcefully keep him out of his lab. He didn’t try to guilt Tony into it any more than he already had. He didn’t even go tattle on him to Pepper.

 

Instead, Rhodey’s strategy was to let the other Avengers loose.

 

“They’re trying to  _ bond. _ ” Tony scowled, tossing away his wrench and missing his work bench by a mile. DUM-E raced after it with an enthusiastic squeal and knocked over a chair. “To  _ cheer me up. _ Can you believe it?”

 

“How dare they,” Stephen deadpanned, only souring Tony’s mood.

 

His phone pinged, and Tony ignored it. 

 

“I’m serious. Do you know how difficult it is to get anything done when they try to get you to ‘relax’? To get you ‘out of your shell’?”

 

Another ping. And another.

 

“What did they do?” Stephen asked, and Tony pretended like his exasperated ‘you’re being dumb and I am humoring you’ facial expression didn’t translate over the hologram. Bullshit, of course; Tony’s holograms were flawless.

 

“They’ve breached the privacy of my lab. My sanctuary!”

 

“To do what, exactly?”

 

Tony stole a glance at the untouched package of donuts that had been dropped out of one of the air vents. Damn Barton.

 

“Does it matter? The point is, they’re being nosy.”

 

Ping. Ping.  _ Ping. _

 

Tony groaned in annoyance, finally grabbing for his phone. Staring up at him were multiple dozen blurry selfies, showing an awkwardly smiling Bruce, an enthusiastically beaming Thor and  _ Vision  _ of all people (the word ‘people’ being used in the broad sense).

 

All pictures were sent from Bruce’s phone, the first one with the caption:  _ Crash course in Earth technology! _

 

Tony sent Stephen the pictures with a curt hand gesture. “‘Crash course’, are you kidding me?! Vision’s an AI – created by  _ me, _ which should tell you everything – and Thor is Asgardian. You know, an  _ alien society _ that is far older and technologically higher developed than Earth.” A society that just happened to make the entirely wrong impression by being unnaturally attached to their viking aesthetic.

 

With another nerve-grating  _ ping _ another picture arrived, this time of a plate of sandwiches and the caption:  _ Come join us! _

 

Tony tossed his phone onto another workbench where it might or might not end up being taken apart by U in the not so distant future (his fingers were crossed). He needed a break.

 

“Change of topic, because I say so. How’s the Stark Phone working out for you?” 

 

Tony had sent Stephen a brand new and customized version of the phone the day before, after a binge in his workshop caused by the realization that Tony hadn’t been able to reach him not because Stephen had changed his phone number, but because the state of his hands didn’t allow him to use it. Once Tony had gotten over the urge to kick himself over not realizing before, he’d set out to develop a device that worked on voice commands alone.

 

Stephen paused just long enough to let Tony know that he wouldn’t let the matter go forever. “It works well. No complaints about the voice recognition.”

 

“But?” 

 

Stephen hesitated.

 

“Come on, you gotta tell me so I can improve it. I can’t fix flaws that I don’t know about.”

 

A sigh. “It’s not the phone itself. It is just a bit tedious to have it sitting in one place the entire time.” His eyes dropped down, glaring at his own hands. “I can’t even carry it properly at the moment. I dropped it when I tried. Thrice.” 

 

“Lucky then that it’s one of mine. It takes more than dropping it to break.” Tony paused, thoughtfully. “Maybe I could make it into a watch instead.”   
  


“Tony…” 

 

“One you don’t have to fasten, one you could just slip on. You’d have it with you without needing to carry it.”

 

“Please tell me I didn’t just give you another reason to live out the rest of your life in your workshop.” 

 

“You say that like I’m not a hundred percent capable of finding reasons myself.” 

 

Tony let his eyes wander over his workshop, lingering on the new projects that had piled up over the last several days. His lab had always been somewhat of a mess, but Tony wouldn’t have it any other way. Unhealthy coping mechanism or not, how many hours had he spent tinkering to avoid nightmares? Keeping himself busy, making himself useful and building to escape the crushing thoughts of not being  _ good _ enough. 

 

How did Stephen do it?

 

“So, how’s physiotherapy going for you?” Tony asked, absentmindedly pulling up the schematics for one of his most recent prototypes. It was far from ready for production, but almost at the point where Tony wanted to ask Stephen about his opinion. Both his medical expertise and his first hand experience would help massively.

 

“Oh, now he remembers.”

 

Tony’s movement halted. He blinked, turning back to face Stephen and not entirely sure if he had misheard. “What?”

 

Stephen’s gaze twitched away to avoid eye contact. “Nevermind.”

 

“No, tell me. What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

 

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” Tony insisted. 

 

“Therapy’s fine,” Stephen said in an oddly clipped voice. “That’s what you were asking, right? In fact, I’ve got a session in ten minutes that I have to get back to.”

 

“Alright,” Tony said, still fighting through the whiplash the abrupt turn of the conversation had given him. “Um. Take care?”

 

“Right. End call.” 

 

The video call cut off without another comment, and Tony stared at the space Stephen had disappeared from for another few heartbeats before shrugging the whole thing off. It was probably nothing.

 

* * *

 

Funnily enough, it was Natasha who got through to him first. Or rather, she was the lucky one who decided to start another attempt to socialize at exactly the right time to catch Tony in an unusually sociable mood, having just finished the blueprints for the new and improved version of Peter’s Spider-Man suit. 

 

He might have been slightly ahead of schedule – alright, as far as he knew the kid didn’t even have his powers yet – but he felt better having one item of his checklist crossed off and ready for production.

 

Of course, Tony wasn’t the kind of person who simply recreated a project of his when he could improve it instead. While the Iron Spider would stay safely secured in his lab for the foreseeable future, Tony had had plenty of ideas to make his first suit even safer and easier to utilize.

 

Only Karen was left to program and integrate into its software, as well as a revision of the training wheels protocol that locked away the more complicated features (damn it, Peter).

 

Tony may or may not have overdone it with all the gadgets he had stuffed into it. Again. Oops?

 

In any case, it was during that moment of bliss at having finished a new invention that Tony’s eyes fell onto a magazine that had most definitely not been lying on his workbench before. There was only one person Tony knew of who collected that garbage religiously, and he admitted defeat with a sigh.

 

“Fine. Congrats, you win. Hope you’re happy now.” He snatched up the magazine while flopping down on his couch, feeling Natasha’s weight drop down next to him as he read the headline. He’d given up on trying to keep her out of his workshop long ago.

 

**DIVORCE SHOCK – The secret marriage and parting of Tony Stark and CEO Pepper Potts. What does it mean for SI?**

 

Tony had to snort a laugh. He set the magazine aside to show Pepper later. “Alright. What else you got?” 

 

Next to him, Natasha smirked.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour and a pile of articles that could no longer be considered journalism later, Tony’s ribs were aching from laughing. “Wait, hold on. They’re saying  _ what _ now?”

 

“That one’s not really a rumor. More of a conspiracy theory.”

 

“A conspiracy theory,” Tony deadpanned. “That says the real Tony Stark has been dead for years.”

 

“You should take a look at the forums.”

 

Tony let out a snort. “What, like you?” Nobody in their right mind would ever believe him if he told them that  _ the _ Black Widow’s favorite past time activity consisted of collecting outrageously ridiculous gossip headlines. Preferably, of course, featuring her teammates. 

 

“Who am I then, his long lost twin?”

 

“Don’t be absurd.” Natasha didn’t look up from where she was doing her nails. She looked relaxed and at ease in such an utter sign of trust, it threatened to clog Tony’s throat if he dared to let his thoughts linger on the situation for too long.

 

How long had it been since the last stab in the back had shattered the bond between them Before? How long would it be until it happened again?

 

“What then?” Tony asked, allowing himself to pretend, to let this fantasy play out instead of sabotaging it ahead of time. Wasn’t he ever the masochist.

 

“You’re an android. The real Tony Stark designed you to take his place and hold up the ruse.”

 

“I probably shouldn’t, but I feel somewhat flattered.” Even with Tony being, well,  _ Tony _ , an android realistic enough to fool most of the population for years would be an incredible accomplishment.

 

“Also, I’m pregnant.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Tony didn’t react to the leg that positioned itself on his own, but raised an eyebrow at the red and golden color of her nail polish. It looked ridiculous. “Who’s the father?”

 

Natasha met his gaze as if absolutely nothing about the situation was in any way remarkable, and kept a straight face as she answered. “Undecided between Steve and Sam.”

 

That made Tony pause. “Seriously?”

 

Natasha shrugged. “The press caught a few pictures during that whole mess in DC. Go figure.”

 

Tony paused at the mention of DC, and didn’t bother to hope that Natasha had missed it. She was  _ Natasha _ , of course she had noticed. Courteously, she decided not to comment. “Frankly, I’m insulted. Who’s to say it’s not mine?”

 

“You’d have to break up your long standing affair with Rhodes first.”

 

Tony opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again almost immediately. “I don’t even know how to argue with that.”

 

Natasha smirked. “I haven’t even told you about Cap’s ‘leaked’ sex tape yet.”

 

“Oh? Do tell.”

 

* * *

 

The  _ ping _ of the elevator announced Natasha’s return to the common area, and Steve’s mood brightened considerably when he saw that Tony was with her. She’d actually done it.

 

Not that Steve had wanted to doubt her. But after almost a week of self-induced isolation and even  _ Rhodey  _ having trouble getting through to him, Steve had had his doubts that anything short of the next alien invasion would convince Tony to leave his lab.

 

Before Steve could come up with anything to say, Tony broke out into a grin. “You know, this wasn’t what I had in mind when I told you to have some fun in the 21st century, but you do you.” 

 

He patted Steve’s arm in passing, leaving him behind to share a look with Natasha. Steve raised an eyebrow, and only got an exaggeratedly innocent look in response.

 

Oh well. Whatever she had done, as long as it meant having Tony go back to normal… Or whatever counted as ‘normal’ for people like them.

 

“Good job,” he said quietly, earning a smirk and joining Natasha on her way to the living room.

 

* * *

 

Stephen had spent the last few days fighting the constant urge to scream. He couldn’t sleep and barely left his house. His attempts at using magic hadn’t brought him anywhere, either. Useless, that’s what he was. What was the point of him if he was unable to use his magic, if he was unable to do  _ anything _ ? 

 

Even using the remote control was too painful to bother.

 

Frustration burned in his throat like acid, and exhaustion was painted under his eyes in dark shadows.

 

Not that Tony would know anything about that. He had his team, a bunch of people who ran around as superheroes for a living and didn’t seem to have much more to do with their time than direct all of their attention to him. Poor him, having to deal with people  _ worrying _ about him.

 

Almost everybody Stephen knew – and especially the one person he would call a close friend – all had time-consuming jobs that didn’t allow them to spend much time with Stephen, even if they genuinely wanted to.

 

Wong didn’t even know who Stephen was.

 

Christine’s occasional visits (whenever her hectic hospital schedule allowed her) and Tony’s phone calls were the only contact he had to the outside, and neither of them were nearly enough to distract him from the utter dullness that his days had become.

 

And Tony had the nerve to complain.

 

Stephen paused, halting that train of thought. When had his thoughts started to become so bitter? He felt like he should feel bad, but it was difficult when the tremors in his hands had been driving him insane for days.

 

But that wasn’t an excuse to behave like a child.

 

Stephen took a deep breath, making an effort to calm down. Fine. He wouldn’t get anywhere with the flashy kind of magic he’d been trying to conjure for the better part of a week, but there were other techniques. And if he hadn’t been so obsessed with trying to make things go back to normal and feeling sorry for himself, he might have thought to try them sooner.

 

He sat down on the floor, folding his legs beneath him and closed his eyes. Falling back into his meditation routine happened almost effortlessly. 

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

Stephen felt his heartbeat calming down, his thoughts soon following.

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

There was no sense in blaming Tony. It wasn’t his fault that Stephen had been rendered practically useless, and somebody had to pick up the slack.

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

Stephen had known from the start that recovery would be slow. It was somewhat hard to forget when he had lived through it once already. He hadn’t been stupid enough to expect a miracle to happen this time around. 

 

Breathe in, breathe out.

 

So why was he still reacting the way he did? He was a doctor; he should know better. He would have known better, had it been anyone other than himself. How often had he seen patients lose themselves after an operation gone wrong, lingering on the ‘what if’s, on the ‘could have been’s? Stephen refused to fall to the same level.

 

His heart beat steadily, his breathing was calm and relaxed. 

 

And there… His lips twitched as he felt the warmth of his magic simmering just below the surface. He couldn’t use it, might not be able to for several more weeks. But it was there, burning and soothing in a way he had never realized before, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone. It felt like a promise.

 

Stephen pressed on. He’d come so far, how could he stop now? The short week had been enough time to make him start to forget what it felt like to be one with his power, had been enough to make him doubt, to let the thought creep in that perhaps, only perhaps it might be lost to him...

 

“Remarkable.”

 

Stephen flinched violently, leaping to his feet and into a pointless fighting stance instinctively.

 

The Ancient One sat on his couch like it belonged to her. Her eyes strayed to his hands – raised defensively, but trembling harshly enough to betray the bluff for what it was.

 

Stephen lowered them with a half-hearted scowl. “I have a phone, you know. As well as a fully functional doorbell.”

 

“How curious,” she said, tilting her head and that small, mysterious smile on her face that Stephen had always hated. “I startled you, yes. But you are not surprised to see me.”

 

Stephen paused. “I suppose I’m not. What do you make of that?”

 

“You know me. And yet, I have never heard of you before in my life.”

 

“And that’s saying something, isn’t it?” Stephen left her to puzzle out whether he was talking about her unnaturally prolonged life, her visions or something else entirely. After everything he had gone through at her hand, it felt incredibly satisfying to be in a position where he was the one to flaunt his knowledge with an air of smug superiority.

 

“How did you know to come?” Stephen asked.

 

“Your magic,” the Ancient One said, “I’ve felt it. It took me a while to track you down because you haven’t been using it. But it is there. Nobody who has not studied under my guidance should be able to access this particular branch of magic.”

 

“Is that why you’re here? To find out if somebody stole your secrets?”

 

“Not entirely.” She kept looking at Stephen like he was a particular tricky piece of a puzzle. “I might have sent somebody else, but I would not have come myself for that.”

 

“Why then?”

 

The Ancient One chose to ignore the question. “You act like you know about my work.”

 

“I do.”

 

“What do you know?” she asked, a curious tilt to her head. Stephen almost expected accusation in her voice, but there was nothing. 

 

“You have sworn to protect Earth from magical threats,” Stephen said. What use was there to keep his knowledge secret? He had nothing to gain from it, so he did not bother to try. “If the Avengers exist to protect it from flashy villains and alien attacks, you and your order stick to the shadows.”

 

“What else?”

 

“Your visions,” Stephen said. “You use them to keep an eye on reality. You know about threats before they even happen.”

 

The Ancient One’s smile widened. “Yes. My visions.” She paused. “I have been looking into the future for decades. But there has always been one point, one event in the future that I could never look beyond. My death.”

 

Stephen blinked in surprise. The Ancient One had always spoken in riddles, had kept her secrets close to her chest and never revealed more than she had to. He had not expected her to speak so plainly to him, to explain everything so easily.

 

“Everything has been laid out in front of me clearly. A rigid path that showed me where my life would lead to. Until last week. Where a pebble fell into a pond and changed everything.” There was another pause. “All of my previous visions are useless now. All of my plans, pointless. Because of you, a thousand new paths have opened up.”

 

Stephen couldn’t help it. He stared. “... You’re excited about this. Shouldn’t you be upset?”

 

For the first time, the Ancient One broke their gaze. A few heartbeats passed in collective silence. 

 

“I have been slowly moving towards my death for as long as I can remember. My life had been planned out, second by second, day by day. Do you know what dull of a life it is, knowing what will happen at every step that you take?” Her face brightened up considerably. “And now you’re here. With impossible knowledge, plunged into the stream of time and made a mess of everything. Will you tell me how that is possible?”

 

Stephen paused, stunned. Never before had a conversation with the Ancient One felt quite like this. Like there were no barriers between them, no secrets. They sat facing each other, the Ancient One on one end, at the height of her power, possibly the mightiest sorceress on Earth, and Stephen on the other, broken and injured, unable to even use the most basic of his abilities. And yet, they were talking as equals.

 

The closest Stephen could think of from Before was the last conversation they had had, just before the Ancient One had succumbed to her injuries. The one instant of honesty between them before Stephen was left with a century old legacy and a responsibility he was not ready for.

 

Then and there, Stephen made a decision.

 

He managed a half-shrug. “How could I not when you’ve been so honest with me?” His mouth twisted into something more sardonic. “I hope you have no other plans. It is quite the story.”

 

“They will manage without me,” she said, leaning back in a move that looked far too casual for the collected, poised sorceress Stephen had known. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, sweet, sweet team bonding. I'm such a slut for functioning team dynamics - too bad that Tony comes from a future where that wasn't exactly a thing. Could that possibly influence the way he's acting towards his team? Hmm.
> 
> Eh, it's probably gonna be fine.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought!
> 
> ~Gwen


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ve made some progress concerning my magic.”

 

“Oh? I thought you said that it will take a while for your hands to recover enough?”

 

“It will. I can’t conjure it. But there are other ways to access it. I managed to– What was that?”

 

“Sorry. Wait a second.”

 

“Alright, of course.”

 

“... Shit. Sorry, there’s something going on in lower Manhattan. I gotta go, duty calls.”

 

“Right. Talk to you la–”

 

“ _The call has disconnected. Would you like to leave a message?_ ”

 

“... No. End call.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Mr. Stark is not currently available. Would you like to leave a message?”_

 

“... Yes. I saw you on TV. You look busy.”

 

…

 

“Something else happened. The Ancient One, I don’t think I’ve mentioned her before, but she… It’s kind of a long story. I was about to tell you before, but… Well.”

 

…

 

“Look, just call me back when you have the time. End call.”

 

* * *

 

“Sorry, man. I know it’s been a while. Things have just been crazy.”

 

“Yeah. I saw.”

 

“It’s weird, fighting with the team again like nothing happened. We’re missing a few people, of course. Still, you wouldn’t believe how easy it is to fall back into our old patterns.”

 

“I bet.”

 

“Rhodey and Sam started joining in, too. They’re practically part of the team already. Don’t know what changed from last time, but I guess Ultron must have postponed it back then.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Oh, and I almost finished a set of blueprints for you to look over. It’s not quite done, but I’d love to hear your input afterwards. I might not find the time to bring them over, but I can just send the schematics.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“What was it that you wanted to tell me? Something about magic stuff? Some lady?”

 

“It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes. I’m sure you have other things to take care of.”

 

“You’re not wrong. Still. I’ll check in with you later.”

 

“End call.”

 

* * *

 

“ _The number you have chosen is not answering. Would you like to leave a message?”_

 

“Just checking in, like I said. I’m making progress with my armor. The team is well. If you’re busy that’s fine, just let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?”

 

* * *

 

“ _The number you have chosen is not answering. Would you like to leave a message?_ ”

 

“Stephen. A giant plaza in the middle of Yerevan was demolished under mysterious circumstances, and witnesses have reported strange figures in monk robes fleeing the scene. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that? Call me back.”

 

* * *

 

“ _The number you have chosen is not answering. Would you like to leave a message?”_

 

“I tried looking into it, but your little order is damn good at covering their tracks. It is them, isn’t it? Of course it is, who else. You realize how much easier this would be if you’d be there to help, right? Call me back.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Your call has been declined. Would you like to leave a message?”_

 

“Stephen, this is the sixth time I’m calling. I know that you’re home, so why aren’t you answering?”

 

…

 

“Is it something I said? Did I do something wrong?”

 

…

 

“Call me back.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Your call has been declined. Would you like to leave a message?_ ”

 

“I’m coming over.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was halfway to the suit he had parked in his workshop when a sound from the entrance made him freeze. He only just managed to suppress a curse.

 

“Vision,” he said, half-turning to face the AI. “Anything I can do for you?”

 

“I am uncertain.” Vision made no move to step further into the workshop, and it almost made him look hesitant. “Are you leaving?”

 

“I was about to,” Tony said. He didn’t elaborate.

 

Vision didn’t move, and if it wasn’t for the glow in his armor’s eye slits, one might have confused him for one of Tony’s old models, waiting in his workshop to be repaired or improved. “I have spent much time with your team,” he said, eventually.

  
Tony wasn’t sure what to make of that. “That’s… nice, Vision. Glad to hear you’re making the tower your home.”

 

“I have not, however, spent much time with you.”

 

“Oh.” So that’s what this was about. Tony hesitated. “Vision…”

 

“I, and your team as well, have noticed that you spend much time in your workshop. Or outside of the tower. Much more so than you used to, from what I’ve heard.” Before Tony could answer – in fact, it was so quickly that it sounded almost anxiously rushed – Vision added, “I wonder if that is because of me.”

 

Tony blinked. “Because of you?”

 

His faceplate stayed motionless, and Tony found himself missing the expressiveness of Vision’s first body. “Yes. I don’t think I am wrong with the assumption that my presence makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“Vision, that’s not…” Tony trailed off when he realized that he didn’t have an excuse. He couldn’t be honest about most of the reasons that kept him busy so often. He couldn’t be honest about his plans, about his preparations, about his desperate quest to redirect the fate of the world. He most definitely couldn’t be honest about the other reality, where Vision’s mere existence had stemmed from the death of one of Tony’s oldest friends.

 

It didn’t change the fact that he had neglected his AI. Complicated circumstances or not, Vision was still _his_ in the same way that JARVIS was. In the same way that DUM-E and U were. In the same way that FRIDAY had been. Or would become.

 

The price of staying silent was keeping Vision in the belief that he was not wanted, that Tony regretted creating him. And Tony wouldn’t stand for that.

 

“It is alright,” Vision said. “I should not have come to confront you. Your reasons are yours, and yours alone.” He turned, preparing to leave the workshop.

 

“Hey, Vis. Wait.” Tony couldn’t tell Vision half of the things that he wanted to tell him. But even if it didn’t solve all of his problems, at least it would serve as an excuse for the moment. “I’ll show you what I do outside of the tower.”

 

Time to introduce Vision to a certain doctor.

 

* * *

 

Tony should have realized that something was wrong earlier. He should have realized when Stephen’s responses had gotten shorter and shorter, and especially when he had stopped answering his phone altogether.

 

Both of them had known that they wouldn’t have much time to spend together, not nearly as much as they would have liked. Even though Tony had temporarily prevented the Avengers from splitting up, there was no guarantee that no other crisis would arise to take Ultron’s place.

 

Then there were his suits. Years of lost progress had left them pathetically underpowered, and every second that Tony hadn’t spent mending relations with the Avengers and the public, fighting at their side and making sure that this time, his team would stay whole, he had been working on his suits. Unfortunately, his Bleeding Edge armor could not be built overnight.

 

The point was: Tony had been busy. Understandably so.

 

The thought didn’t help much against the guilt when Tony walked into Stephen’s apartment and was greeted by silence. It was messier than he remembered, books and papers strewn on the ground carelessly like nobody cared to keep the place tidy.

 

Tony picked up one of the papers, but at first couldn’t make out what was written on it. When he did, it made his heart clench. _Stephen Strange_ was written out on it over and over, the letters awkward and jittery, barely legible.

 

Tony lowered the paper, but didn’t let go.

 

“I don’t understand,” Vision said. He’d followed Tony through the door, and was now looking around the apartment. “Why are we here?”

 

Before Tony could answer or continue his search for Stephen, Christine strode in from the other room, wiping her eyes furiously and freezing as she caught side of him. “Mr. Stark!” Tony tried not to look too closely at her red, puffy eyes. They slid past him to land on Vision, and Christine did a double take. “Um.”

 

“Right. Sorry, I’m just,” Tony winced and made an internal apology to Vision. “My suit is programmed to operate on its own when I’m not in it. For safety reasons.”

 

Tony was lucky that he had left his real suit on the roof when they’d arrived, hidden from curious fans and – God forbid – reporters. Vision had caught on quickly, and didn’t ruin the excuse by protesting.

  
“Right,” Christine said, taking the information comparatively well. “Okay. Look, I’m sorry. This might not be the best time for a visit. He’s having a bad day.” The bitter laugh she attempted turned into a sob halfway through. “A really, really bad day. He tried to get me to leave the second I came in.”

 

Tony wasn’t surprised. He’d pulled the same kind of stunt when he’d been dying of palladium poisoning, and knew the urge to push people away better than most. “He didn’t want to let everything out at you,” he said. “I’m sure that’s why he tried to scare you away.”

 

“I know! I know, okay? I–” Christine sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen this kind of thing happening over and over again. It just… It hurts. It hurts seeing him this way.”

 

Tony reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, pausing to look for signs that the contact wasn’t wanted. “You’ve done more than enough already. Go home. Take a day off.”

 

Christine bit her lip, avoiding Tony’s gaze. “I don’t know. It feels… wrong, to just leave him like this.”

 

“You’re not leaving him. I’ll be here. And you should take care of yourself, first.” Tony paused. “Besides, Stephen will regret what he said to you. No need to give him the chance to make it worse.” Who would have thought that Tony would ever be thankful for his first hand experience?

 

Christine hesitated for just a moment longer, then nodded. “I… Fine. Just. I warned you. He’s frustrated.” A bitter chuckle escaped her. “And frustrating.”

 

Tony waited until she had left before he turned to Vision. “Sorry about that, Vis.”

 

“Why did you not introduce me to her?”

 

Tony had to cringe. “Because I don’t know her well. I’m sorry, I just…” He paused to collect his thoughts. He had to treat carefully if he didn’t want to screw this up. “You remember the way the team reacted.”

 

“Yes,” Vision said. “They were… cautious.”

 

“Yeah. And that’s despite knowing me. Despite knowing JARVIS for years.” Although it was questionable just how much about JARVIS they actually knew. For all Tony knew they could think of JARVIS as a slightly more fancy version of Siri. Preposterous. “You see, most people aren’t that psyched about actual, self-thinking AIs. Blame it on the movies that show them taking over the world and oppressing humanity.”

 

“I… see.”

 

“I’m not ashamed of you,” Tony said, making sure to meet Vision’s gaze. “I don’t want to hide you from anyone. I need you to know that. I’m just…”

 

“Concerned,” Vision finished. “For my safety, as for that of your other creations.”

 

Tony paused. “You’re more than just my creation, Vis. But yes. I’m always worried.”

 

There was a reason that of all the scientific advancements Tony had made available to the public, his AIs were not among them. Even without Ultron throwing a wrench between things, many people weren’t comfortable with a machine whose intelligence outranked their own. But that was an issue for another time.

 

“Give us a minute, will you?” Tony asked, and waited for Vision’s nod of confirmation before he finally entered the next room.

 

Stephen didn’t even look up. He was slumped in an armchair, his beard messy and his eyes sunken in. His StarkWatch – courtesy of Tony and speed-delivered as soon as it had left his workbench – peeked out from under his sleeve, eliminating all remaining doubt that he had simply forgotten about it somewhere.

 

Several snarky remarks immediately jumped to mind, and Tony pushed all of them away forcefully. This was not the time. Not that the resulting silence was in any way better.

 

“I’m not a physiotherapist,” Stephen said after a few uncomfortably tense seconds, still refusing to look at Tony, “but I’m still a doctor. I know how muscles are build. I know how mobility is regained. I know that it takes. _Time._ ” His breath came short and ragged, and his arms shook harder than Tony had ever seen them. “So why is it as bad as the first time around?”

 

Tony hesitated. “Because there are no shortcuts. Not for this.” Tony double checked that Vision was still out of sight and hoped that he had the sense of mind to grant them their privacy. Even without the need to keep their cover as time-travellers, he doubted that Stephen would want anybody else present for this.

 

“You know,” Tony started, and tried to keep his voice casual despite the utter self-contempt he felt having to talk about the topic. “I wasn’t doing so well after New York. The first time around. I thought I could jump straight to being fine. That I was above such things. Iron Man, suffering from anxiety attacks, _please_.”

 

Tony could feel the bitter line to his mouth. Even now, it was still difficult to open himself up like this. The only people he had talked to about this were Pepper and Rhodey. Well, and JARVIS, but was there anything he _didn’t_ tell JARVIS?

 

“Well, it doesn’t work that way.”

 

“Yes,” Stephen said, and the mockery and sarcasm in his voice made Tony tense. “Because that’s so similar. Exactly the same, good job, Stark. If this is your attempt to cheer me up, you can follow Christine right out the door.”

 

Tony could feel several defences shutting down, most worrying of all his snark. “What you should also know as a doctor, as you so maturely pointed out, is that self-pity won’t do anything.”

 

“Well excuse me for feeling sorry for myself while you’ve been out there, living your life like nothing has happened.”

 

Tony's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. He waited a moment for Stephen – and himself – to cool down. “What happened, Stephen? I knew you were struggling, but…” He trailed off, realizing with sudden clarity how utterly unqualified for this job he was. How could anybody expect him – _him,_ who didn’t even manage to take care of himself – to find the right words instead of making things worse?

 

Better to start with a – hopefully – safe topic. “What was it that you wanted to tell me? On the phone?” Tony had listened to the recordings of their phone calls repeatedly after Stephen had stopped answering, trying to find some sort of clue. He hadn’t liked what he’d heard at all. “Look, I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care about what you were going through.”

 

Tony knew that he tended to get carried away by his work. He got lost in machinery, tools and code, tinkering and inventing and forgetting that the outside world existed. It wasn’t anything new. But Tony hated when it started to affect the people around him, he hated that no matter how often he tried to do better, eventually he always slid back into old habits.

 

“Come on,” Tony said. Stephen still wouldn’t look in his direction. “What’s going on?”

 

Again, there was silence, but this time, Tony waited. Eventually, Stephen sighed and closed his eyes. “The incident you mentioned,” he said, “in Yerevan.”

 

“People in monk robes duelling each other in the middle of a crowded plaza,” Tony said. It had been somewhat difficult to ignore, and, Tony was sure, even more difficult to sweep under the rug. How glad he was that that was not part of his job. “Let me guess, that was your people?”

 

Stephen’s head twitched in what could have been a nod. “They confronted a man named Kaecilius. He’d been using the Ancient One’s teachings for his own, selfish reasons.”

 

It took Tony far more self-restraint than it should have to suppress a comment about the choice in names. Kaecilius? The Ancient One? Well, at least it meant ‘Doctor Strange’ fit right in. “Did they get him? This Kaecilius?”

 

“They did. Several years ahead of schedule.”

 

Tony waited, but no clarification followed. There had to be something he was missing. “Isn’t that a good thing? One less evil sorcerer to worry about, yay us!”

 

He’d said the wrong thing.

 

“Us?” Stephen’s laugh sounded bitter and fake. “What do you mean, us? The Ancient One took care of it, she and some of her students. You’ve been out there, playing hero with your team and no doubt developing contingency plans for every _pebble_ that might fall into the wrong place in the future.”

 

Tony wanted to interrupt, but Stephen barreled on.

 

“Meanwhile, I’ve been sitting here, completely useless, watching TV – watching _you_ actually get stuff done. And now, to make matters worse, I also have to watch the Ancient One do my job for me.” Stephen paused and something ugly entered his gaze, raw and mocking and further twisted by the self-deprecating line that was his mouth. “Actually, no. It’s _her_ job. She’s still the Sorceress Supreme, and without her death, there’s no reason for me to take over. So tell me. What’s the point of me being here?”

 

Tony felt like he should have been speechless. He felt like he should have been blown away, helplessly struggling for words in face of this outburst of emotions that he couldn’t even begin to understand.

 

What slipped past his lips instead was: “Wow. Okay. You know, you’re being incredibly unreasonable right now.”

 

Stephen did a double take. Perhaps it would have been funny if the situation wasn’t the exact opposite of that. “Excuse me?”

 

“I’m just saying. For somebody who’s supposedly a genius – or at least smart enough to have made a decent doctor, surgeon, whatever – you’re being uncharacteristically dumb.”

 

Not that Tony was doing much better. He felt like he should have made more of an effort to do whatever a socially capable person would have done – more emotional support, less making jabs at the guy bordering on crippling depression and self-loathing – but he wasn’t in the mood to treat Stephen like glass. He didn’t have the temperament for it, either. Besides, Stephen didn’t seem like the kind of person who took well to that kind of treatment, anyway.

 

Usually, that was. Now, he glared at Tony with the kind of heated fury that was usually reserved for people trying to kill them. “Do you have a point? Or did you just come here to insult me?”

 

“Oh, I’m not enjoying this any more than you are, trust me.” Tony hesitated – he was just waiting to step over some kind of line, waiting to be thrown out of Stephen’s apartment and spent the next few weeks in frosty silence and regret. “You want a point? Fine. Say you’re there during my rescue from Afghanistan.”

 

“What are you–”

 

“You’re there, you know about what happened. Shrapnels in my chest, three months of living conditions I wouldn’t recommend to anyone besides perhaps Thanos, I’m malnourished, dehydrated, several broken bones and wounds that just about avoided getting infected.”

 

Stephen stared at him like he was crazy. Tony counted it as a win, because at least the self-deprecation was gone. He had enough self-hatred for the two of them, and Stephen honestly didn’t need to add to that garbage fire. “Okay. And?”

 

“After all that, would you expect me to build the Mark II and go after the terrorists who kept me right away?”

 

Stephen scowled, realizing where this was going. “Of course not. But it’s not the same.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Because expecting yourself to recover from a car crash in a few weeks is so much more reasonable.”

 

“I’m not expecting anything! I’m just–” Stephen cut off with a frustrated growl. “It’s not the same.”

 

“... Yeah. It’s not.” Tony paused, lowering his voice to sound calmer. “But that doesn’t mean you should treat yourself like this. You healed before, didn’t you? You went on to join your little cult, studied magic. It’ll just take time.”

 

“Time we might not have,” Stephen muttered, and Tony found that there wasn’t much he could say to that. Oh well. If he didn’t manage to talk sense into him, perhaps a distraction would work.

 

“I didn’t come alone, you know. I thought you’d like to meet someone.”

 

That, at least, got Stephen’s attention. Small mercies, Tony supposed, and raised his voice so Vision would be able to hear him in the other room. “Hey, Vision. You can come out now.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nursing school continues trying to kick my butt. At this point I'm determined to pass purely out of spite.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought!
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> ~Gwen


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey, Vision. You can come in now.”

 

Stephen looked taken aback – no wonder, as the Vision he’d known hadn’t looked like one of Tony’s armors. Tony supposed he could count himself lucky that Stephen had never known Ultron, and failed to make the connection.

 

“This is Vision,” Tony said, cutting Stephen off before he could even begin to voice his questions. “He’s an AI, so he doesn’t have a physical body of his own. That’s why he’s operating the suit instead.”

 

Stephen frowned, but thankfully took the hint and didn’t question him. That would be just brilliant, Stephen chattering about other realities and the other Vision when Tony had taken great care to keep quiet about it.

 

“Vis, this is Doctor Stephen Strange. He’s an… old friend of mine.”

 

“Hello, Doctor,” Vision said, and Tony was somewhat glad that he didn’t offer his metal glove for a handshake. “It is nice to make your acquaintance.”

 

“... Likewise,” Stephen said, hesitant and stealing glances at Tony like he wasn’t sure whether to address him or Vision.

 

Tony had almost forgotten that Stephen – as someone who had never been an Avenger, and thus hadn’t spent much time in Avengers Tower – didn’t have experience with his AIs. Had he known any of them, besides FRIDAY? Even then, it was unlikely for him to have grasped her complexity if the only occasion he had known her was during battle.

 

Oh well. He would step in if he had to, but Tony wanted to give Vision the chance to hold this conversation on his own. His AIs were all about learning, and in Vision’s case that included learning to form bonds with other people.

 

It was then, absentmindedly taking a look around Stephen’s apartment, that Tony’s eyes fell on a dented, cracked box that looked almost like…

 

“What have you done to your poor coffee machine?” Tony had already crouched down to cradle the broken parts in his hands.

 

Stephen avoided meeting Tony’s glance. “... It may be that I expressed my temper by spontaneously redecorating.”

 

“Redecorating. Right.” Tony shook his head in a look of exaggerated disappointment. “Well, this won’t do.”

 

He flopped down on the floor in a more comfortable position and the coffee machine in his lap, and proceeded to pull out a miniature toolbelt with ever so tiny tools on it. It held only the essentials, but Tony would make do.

 

“Do you always carry that with you?” Stephen asked, and, after Tony threw him a look, “... Nevermind.”

 

Tony quickly fell into a soothingly familiar routine. His hands moved confidently and almost without thinking. He hadn’t realized how desperately he had needed a breather, and some old-fashioned tinkering, almost trivial in its simplicity, did wonders for his nerves. 

 

“You are a doctor,” Vision said, somewhat blunt and without following it up with a question. As far as conversation starters went, he could have done worse. 

 

What a picture he and Stephen made: a human who knew nothing about AIs and an AI who knew nothing about humans.

 

“Yes,” Stephen said, getting over his hesitation. “Do you… know what that means?”

 

“Mr. Stark is a doctor,” Vision said and made it sound like a question.

 

“True,” Stephen said. “But Tony is a… different kind of doctor.” Stephen might as well have said ‘the wrong kind’ or ‘the useless kind’. Rude.

 

“In my case, being a doctor means that I studied to… help people. I learned to treat injuries and diseases, and to help people get well again.”

 

“You are a human who… fixes other humans?”

 

“I suppose you could call it that.” Stephen’s face closed off, and a hollow feeling opened up in Tony’s stomach. “At least I used to be.”

 

Vision, inexperienced as he was, failed to notice the gigantic mood drop and carried on. “Why did you stop?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly being given a choice.” 

 

“I don’t understand,” Vision said. “If you know how to heal, what is stopping you from doing so?”

 

Stephen didn't answer immediately. Tony tentatively went back to his self-assigned task.

  
"The kind of doctor that I used to be is called a surgeon. It means that I performed operations on the human body and made people better." He paused. "I suppose there's similarities between Tony and I, after all. He works on machines, while I work on–  _ worked _ , on humans." Another pause, this time to raise his trembling hands to where they could see them. "It is not the kind of work I can complete with hands like these."   
  
"I see," Vision said in a tone that suggested that he didn't. "Cannot another doctor heal them?"   
  
"... No. Human medicine, it is... It is remarkable. It evolves at an almost breathtaking rate, and the kind of trauma that people are able to recover from nowadays–” Stephen cut himself off just when it sounded like he was about to burst into a science ramble. "But medicine is still limited. So is the human body. Some injuries simply cannot be treated, and these... They are beyond healing."   
  
This time, his words sank in even for Vision. "I apologize. My intention was not to bring up bad memories for you."   
  
"It is... fine," Stephen said. His hesitation belied his words. "I suppose the memories aren't so bad, from time to time. My work, it was... For a time, it was everything to me."

 

“I have to admit,” Vision said, “that I am intrigued. The human body, it sounds fascinating. As does your profession. If you do not mind… That is, I would gladly ask more questions, if you allow me to.”

 

Tony almost hoped that Stephen would decline. But as painful as the topic seemed, perhaps talking about it to someone would benefit him in the long run. It couldn’t be healthy to leave such a huge part of his life behind and force himself to never look back.

 

“... Why not?” Stephen said, emitting hesitance when he was going for nonchalance. “What would you like to know?”

 

What followed was only short of being an interrogation. Vision’s questions went from general – “How long did it take to become a doctor? How much about the human body do you know?” – to more specific – “What are the limits of the human body? What kind of innovations have humans made in medicine?” Stephen answered all of them thoroughly and with patience few would have thought him capable of. Listening in to his answers, it wasn’t difficult for Tony to believe that Stephen had been – and still was – incredibly passionate about his profession.

 

He pretended not to notice the way Stephen’s voice seemed to falter from time to time, and kept his eyes aimed strictly at the coffee machine in his lap whenever there was a suspicious pause in Stephen’s sentences.

 

His resolve was tested more and more as the questions became more personal.

 

“Your specialty was neurosurgery then?” Vision asked.

 

“It was. It is considered one of the more complicated branches in medicine. It takes many years to complete the necessary training, and even then, a neurosurgeon never stops learning. As quickly as the practice is changing, they would fall behind, otherwise.”

 

“But how is neurosurgery possible, at all?” Vision’s head tilted to the side. “If there was to be a flaw in my programming, Mr. Stark could shut me down and correct the mistake without causing me any harm. You cannot shut down a human. And my assumption was that the brain was one of the most delicate parts of your body. How can you…  _ operate,  _ on it, without killing your patient?”

 

“People used to think it was impossible. The brain is far more resilient and far more likely to adapt and recover from damage that it suffered than we used to think. There’s a term for it called neuro– neuroplasticity–” 

 

Stephen paused and turned his head away. Tony’s hands stilled as Stephen cleared his throat. He carried on like nothing had happened. “It is the brain’s ability to change and adapt over the course of a person’s life. Certain functions of the brain can be transferred to a different location, which makes it far more durable and able to recover from direct damage.”

 

His voice was steady up until the end, but Tony didn’t go back to his tinkering regardless. Vision didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

 

“You mean to say that your programming can rewrite itself? Just like mine?”

 

“I suppose,” Stephen said. “I’m not familiar with programming, much less with AIs. But the comparison sounds fitting.” 

 

He hesitated again, and Tony wouldn’t admit how concerning it was to see Stephen pausing and faltering in his words so often, when usually he was nothing but confident. 

 

“There was this patient I treated…” Stephen trailed off. He cleared his throat again. “One of my patients, he… We were going to do an experimental surgery where…” He stopped. 

 

Tony’s eyes were glued to the floor. 

 

“I… I…” 

 

Stephen’s voice cracked, and Tony couldn’t bear it for a second longer. He pushed himself to his feet, only after carefully setting down the fixed coffee machine. “Alright,” he said, trying not to let his voice waver. “That’s it. This isn’t working out.”

 

Stephen’s eyes flew open when they’d been pressed shut before, and Tony saw emotions flash over his face in rapid succession. There was surprise, hurt and far worse that Tony wanted to burn out of his skull immediately. The worst, by far, was betrayal.

 

“You know where the door is,” Stephen said, his voice hoarse and wound far too tight.

 

“I do.” Tony looked around the room and pointedly went into the opposite direction of the exit. He should have done this ages ago. 

 

A peek into Stephen’s closet didn’t reveal what Tony was looking for, so he turned and tried another. And another. He was halfway across the apartment by the time Stephen regained his wits, Vision standing next to him motionlessly and silent.

 

“What in the world are you doing?” Stephen said.

 

“Looking for a suitcase.”

 

“... A suitcase,” Stephen repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

 

“You know what? You’re right. That’s ridiculous.” Tony went back to the closet, snatching up two jackets and a couple other pieces of clothing. He dropped one of the jackets into Stephen’s lap and thrust the rest into Vision’s arms. “Be a dear and carry this for me, will you? I’ll just send over some people to deliver the rest.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” Vision said, bemusement in his voice but not questioning the order.

 

“Deliver my–” Stephen cut himself off, half-heartedly glowering at Tony. “Anthony Stark, stay still and tell me what you think you’re doing.”

 

“Easy.” Tony looked Stephen into his eyes. “You’re coming with me.”

 

There was a pause. 

 

“With you,” Stephen repeated.

 

“We’ve tried it this way. You doing your thing, me doing mine. And it’s not working out. Should have seen it coming, really.” Tony spotted Stephen’s shoes next, and snatched them up to drop them next to Stephen. They were ugly, laceless slip-ons.

 

“So. You’re not doing well on your own – which is understandable,” Tony barrelled straight through Stephen’s protest, “I’m the same. Slipping on my own but horrible at admitting it. So, you’re coming to the tower. With me.”

 

Tony fell silent, and still, Stephen didn’t answer. As the silence dragged on, doubt started to creep in. “I mean. You don’t have to. This is an offer, you can do what you want, obviously. I just thought…”

 

“Tony.”

 

“You’re not obligated, just because I said–”

 

“Tony.”

 

“This was honestly kind of spontaneous, I swear I would have told you if–”

 

“ _ Tony. _ ”

 

Tony fell silent. Stephen’s brows were drawn in what wasn’t quite irritation. His expression softened as soon as Tony’s rambling stopped.

 

“Thank you. This is,” he hesitated, “unexpected. But I appreciate it.”

 

“Is that a yes then?” 

 

Stephen’s eyes flickered to Vision, who was still awkwardly carrying a pile of his belongings. In retrospect, Tony should have probably waited for an answer before ransacking the apartment. 

 

Stephen huffed, and Tony didn’t think he imagined the fondness that laid in it. “Might as well. Although,” he paused, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you fly here? I can’t exactly portal us to the tower.”

 

“‘Portal’–?”

 

“Right. Sorry, my mistake,” Tony said, wincing at Vision’s question. He’d have to take him aside for a talk later if Stephen insisted on being careless about their secrets like this. “No worry, the suit’s parked on the roof, I can pick it up later. I’ll just call someone.”

 

* * *

 

“One second Happy, there’s a call.” Pepper frowned at the name on the display, but answered regardless. “Tony? Is that you?”

 

_ “Hey, Pep. Where are you right now?” _

 

“I’m on the way back to the tower. Happy is driving. Didn’t you say you–”

 

_ “Perfect. Tell him to swing by elsewhere, first. You gotta pick me up.” _

 

“Happy, wait a second,” Pepper said, leaning towards the driver’s seat. Happy raised an eyebrow, but stopped the car to wait for directions. “Why do we need to pick you up? I thought you’d taken the armor. Where are you, anyway?”

 

_ “I’m with a friend,”  _ Tony said, but didn’t elaborate.  _ “Look, just come over, alright? I’ll text you the address.”  _ With that, he hung up.

 

Pepper sighed, but passed on the address anyway. She had long since given up trying to make sense of Tony, and had learned to go along with at least his minor whims about a year into knowing him.

 

“A friend, huh?” Happy said instead of being professional and acting like he hadn’t listened in on their conversation. “Any idea who he’s talking about?”

 

“Not a clue,” Pepper said.

 

The address wasn’t far, and Tony was already waiting by the time they arrived. He wasn’t alone.

 

Pepper schooled her face into a blank expression. She recognized the Iron Man armor as the one Vision was using, but did a double take at the person next to Tony. His “friend” looked closer to a homeless guy, with his beard and his unkempt, if not sickly appearance. 

 

“I will see you at the tower, Mr. Stark,” Vision said just as Pepper contemplated leaving the car. 

 

“You sure?” Tony asked. “You could drive with us, if you wanted to.There’s room.”

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Vision turned to face the car. “Mr. Hogan, Miss Potts. I will see you later.” With that the repulsors roared to life, and Vision took off. As soon as he was gone, Tony made a beeline for the driver’s side of the car. 

 

“Get out,” he said, gesturing for Happy to leave the car. “I feel like driving myself, so shoo.”

 

“Are you for real?” Happy sent Tony an entirely unprofessional glare that would have gotten him fired with any other employer. “First I was your pointless bodyguard, now you’re trying to make me your pointless driver?”

 

“Go on. My car, my rules.”

 

“What am I even here for if I’m not allowed to drive?” 

 

“Stop being dramatic,” Tony said, sliding into the driver’s seat as soon as Happy had given in. “You’re acting like I’m abandoning you on the streets. There’s plenty of space in the backseat, off you go.”

 

Happy grumbled under his breath, and soon joined Pepper on the backseat. The homele–  _ Tony’s friend _ got to take the passenger seat. 

 

“So,” Pepper said, clearing her throat as Tony steered the car into the streets. “Aren’t you going to… introduce us?”

 

“Right. Yeah, sure. Stephen, this is Happy Hogan and Pepper Potts–”

 

“Technically I’m his driver, she’s his CEO.”

 

“They’re two of my closest friends–”

 

“Who just happen to be working for him.”

 

“Oh shush.” Tony threw a glance into the rear mirror. “You make it sound like I’m buying your friendship.”

 

“I don’t know about Pepper,” Happy said, “but I’ve had my eyes on that new Lamborghini. Just in case someone was wondering.”

 

Pepper snorted, and Tony ignored the remark entirely. “Pepper, Happy. This is Doctor Stephen Strange. We... weren’t exactly on speaking terms for a while, but he’s an old friend.”

 

“I see,” Pepper said, giving Strange a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.”

 

“Likewise,” Strange said, barely turning to face her.

 

Pepper kept her expression pleasant and chased off the frown that was threatening to sneak on her face. She could count the number of people that Tony considered his friends on one hand – perhaps more since the Avengers had happened – and she had never heard of a Stephen Strange before. Tony had said that they hadn’t been on speaking terms. Could that be the reason? Had they met before Pepper’s time, and only now reconciled? It sounded unlikely, but why would Tony lie to her?

 

It certainly wasn’t the oddest behavior Tony had shown in the last few weeks.

 

“Um. Boss,” Happy said, frowning at the traffic around them. “Are you okay?”

 

“Sure am,” Tony said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

The car behind them honked. Loudly. 

 

“You’re driving ten under the speed limit.”

 

“Excuse you,” Tony said, throwing a glance into the rear mirror. “Are you seriously judging me for driving responsibly?”

 

“I’m not judging–”

 

“Pepper, are you listening to this? Happy is trying to encourage unsafe driving practices.”

 

“I’m not– You’re not–” 

 

“Should I have second thoughts about who I’m hiring to drive me places?”

 

Happy spared himself the answer, but grumbled something about hypocrisy. Another honk sounded behind them, longer than the first. Tony ignored it.

 

“Tony,” Pepper said, “I’ve never seen you obey driving laws like this. You always drive above the speed limit.”

 

“Well, maybe I’m trying to–”

 

“It’s for my sake,” Strange threw in before Tony managed to make another attempt at deflection. His voice was quiet, his eyes directed downwards and avoiding eye contact. “I cannot say that I am overly fond of cars.”

 

Pepper followed his gaze to land on his hands. Scars ran over them in angry lines, and a tremor made them shake and twitch in a way that was painful to look at. She saw Happy’s eyes widen as he made the same observation, and they fell into uncomfortable silence.

 

“So,” Pepper said, clearing her throat awkwardly when the tension grew too thick, “How do you two know each other?”

 

Tony and Strange shared a glance, and Pepper realized that she would not receive a straight answer for the rest of the car ride. She also found out, listening to wild tales about charity galas and one night stands, that there was, in fact, someone out there with an ego that rivalled Tony’s own. Who would have thought.

 

Happy, the traitor, popped in headphones about two minutes into the conversation. Pepper was left to listen to the bickering of two people so similar to each other, she couldn’t help but wonder how they had ever become friends.

 

“To this day,” Tony said, “I still don’t know if he was flirting with me or my date by the end of the night.”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Stephen said, letting out an impressive huff. “Please realize that I tend to not go for people whose ego rivals even my own.”

 

“Oh please,” Tony said, and on they went exchanging jabs.

 

In retrospect, perhaps the awkward silence had been preferable.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I passed my first practical exam! :D
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> Please take a moment to let me know what you thought!
> 
> ~Gwen


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm sorry about that," Stephen said, breaking the silence for the first time since entering the elevator that would bring them to the top of Avengers tower. 

 

“Sorry about what?”

 

"Miss Potts and Mr. Hogan," Stephen clarified. "You had to lie to them, because of me."

 

Although neither Potts, nor Hogan had said it out loud, it wouldn't surprise Stephen if they’d assumed Tony had been playing a prank on them, rather than inviting a close friend to the tower that neither of them had ever heard of. Even if they’d warmed up to the idea by the end of the car ride, Stephen would have prefered if the stories that had convinced them hadn’t been entirely fabricated. 

 

Tony shot him a look. "I think I made us even by inventing that story about meeting you drunk at a charity ball."

 

Stephen snorted. "The spontaneous karaoke was a nice touch."

 

"Sorry for ruining all chances you had of acting sophisticated in front of them."

 

Stephen let out a chuckle, and they fell into comfortable silence.

 

"The Avengers will be here, won't they?" Stephen asked.

 

Tony hummed in confirmation. "Some of them. The founding members. Rhodey is out, but Sam might be there."

 

Stephen's eyes were drawn to the ground. "I'm sorry to ask, but would you be willing to do it again?"

 

"To do what?" Tony asked, throwing a glance at him from the side. "Keep telling embarrassing stories about you?"

 

"Lie to them. About who I am."

 

Tony looked away, the smile fading. "I kinda already expected it. It's fine. We'll just go with the same cover story as before."

 

Stephen's eyes twitched upwards. He'd expected at least some kind of reluctance. "It won't be for long," he added regardless. "We can tell them the truth soon, I just... I'd like to get a grip on my magic, first."

 

"Yeah, okay."

 

"I just don't think I'd be ready to answer questions yet."

 

"Stephen," Tony said, gripping his shoulder and squeezing gently. "I told you. It's fine."

 

A weight that Stephen hadn't noticed before fell off his shoulders, and his lips twitched into a smile. He hadn't realized how tense he'd gotten during the car ride. "Thanks, Tony."

 

He was forced to rethink his gratitude a few minutes later, when he was introduced to the Avengers as the guy who had drunkenly spilled Champagne on Tony's Armani suit. Trust Tony to help him make a memorable first impression.

 

* * *

 

"And he's offered you to stay?" Wilson asked. "Just like that?"

 

"Essentially." A smile tugged at Stephen's lips. "He'd started packing my belongings before he'd even asked me."

 

Wilson laughed. "Sounds like him." 

 

Stephen considered himself lucky at how pleasant of a conversation partner Wilson had turned out to be. Especially seeing as Tony had sneaked away from the conversation the second the ice had broke. 

 

It could have been worse. The rest of the team had gone back to whatever they’d been doing before, but since Wilson was relatively new to the tower himself, Stephen didn’t feel completely left out.

 

"He seems like the type," Wilson said. "Collecting strays when he feels like it."

 

"Strays, huh?" That certainly wasn’t a word he’d been described with before.

 

Wilson took his raised eyebrow as offense, and jumped to clarify. "I'm not just talking about you, man. A few weeks back, we hadn't even gotten around to talk about my recruitment to the team. I was just some guy who lent Cap and Widow a hand this one time."

 

"You made us breakfast, too," Romanoff called from the other side of the room.

 

Wilson snorted. "Right. That, too. So, Cap invites me to the tower, and it's only about my third time here or so. What did I find? A five-star suite wearing my name. I'm not even staying here for more than a few days at a time."

 

Stephen huffed a laugh. "Tony doesn't exactly do things half-way."

 

There was a pause as both of them watched Clint "practice his marksmanship" by throwing skittles into the air and catching them with his mouth. The team didn't seem like bad company, but Stephen found himself feeling drained. Perhaps he should retire for the day, find his temporary living space and get comfortable before taking the next few steps.

 

Stephen realized then that Tony had never told him where he would stay.

 

"Tony didn't happen to mention which guest room is available, did he?"

 

"Not a clue. Sorry man." Sam shrugged. "Although, with the size of this building you could probably pick at random."

 

"It's fine. I'll ask." Stephen pushed himself up. "Which way is Tony's workshop?"

 

"I haven't really been down there before," Wilson admitted. 

 

“I have,” Rogers said, looking up from his tablet. He hadn't gone after Tony even though he'd looked like he wanted to, assumably for the same reasons that Stephen hadn't. Despite how much Tony had complained about their nosiness, his team was surprisingly considerate of his personal space.

 

"He doesn't allow everybody in," Rogers said, and it didn't sound hostile as much as a warning that Stephen might find himself in front of a locked door. "Normally you could ask his AI, but..."

 

"But what?"

 

Rogers shook his head. "Nevermind. Try your luck, it's down the hall, down one set of stairs and on the right. It's all glass, you'll see it right away."

 

Rogers was right. The workshop wasn't difficult to find, and he didn't need to wait longer than a few seconds for the door to open. He probably wouldn’t have noticed if Rogers hadn’t brought it up, but it was missing the usual, robotic introduction that tended to go with Tony's tech. 

 

"Hey," Tony greeted, swirling around his chair to face him. "You done socializing?"

 

"I didn't exactly have much of a choice," Stephen pointed out. "You left me there."

 

"So dramatic. Didn't they make a good first impression? Do I need to scold anyone? I swear, if Clint didn’t behave himself–”

 

"Your team was fine," Stephen interrupted. "I just needed a break. I was wondering if you could show me where I'll be staying."

 

"Sure, yeah. You can just follow JA-" Tony cut himself off, his lips forming a firm, narrow line. "I mean. Yeah, one sec. I'll show you, just give me a moment to finish this."

 

Stephen felt like he was standing in the middle of a minefield. Against his better judgement, he took a tentative step. "Can't FRIDAY show me the way?"

 

Tony didn't look up. "... No. She can't."

 

"Why not? Where is she?"

 

"Not here. It's too early. She hasn't been activated yet."

 

"Okay," Stephen said slowly. He didn't think Tony was lying, but he was missing something. Something felt wrong. "Does that mean you didn't have an AI before her? Was she your first?"

 

"Technically DUM-E was my first," Tony said, pointing towards a metal construction that Stephen hadn't paid closer attention to in the mess that was Tony's workshop. At second glance, it looked almost like a claw. And it was moving. "DUM-E, say hello."

 

The robot – DUM-E, Tony had called it – raised its arm and circled its camera in what looked almost like a gesture of curiosity.

 

Was he supposed to greet it? Talking to a moving pile of metal and wires felt awkward, but Stephen got the impression that it was expected of him. "Hello, DUM-E. It's nice to meet you.” To Tony, he said, “Don't try to change the subject."

 

Tony clenched his jaw, but didn't try to deny it. Deflection might have worked on another person, but not on him. 

 

"Tony, please. Talk to me?"

 

Tony's sigh was a sound of defeat. His eyes were closed like he was preparing himself for something. It made Stephen almost want to take his words back, to give him a way out. Almost.

 

"Fine. You’re right. FRIDAY wasn't my first. She's... She took the place of her predecessor. JARVIS. His name is JARVIS."

 

"... And?" Stephen prompted when Tony made no move to explain further.

 

Tony's gaze hardened, his eyes fixed on the workbench before him. "He died during that whole Ultron mess. Ultron killed him."

 

The words felt like a blow to the chest. Stephen might have been new to the concept of AIs – on a personal level, at least – but it didn't take a genius to realize how much Tony's creations meant to him. And yet...

 

"You said you stopped Ultron," Stephen said, slowly. "You said it didn't happen this time."

 

"It didn't."

 

"So what happened to JARVIS?"

 

"I shut him down."

 

Stephen blinked. "Why?"

 

Tony's laugh was harsh and far too bitter. He tapped his fingers on his sternum and didn't seem to realize that he was doing it. "Look. Ultron doesn't exist, not like Before. I made sure of it. But Vision comes uncomfortably close. I know it's stupid, and he's different, but..."

 

"Ultron killed JARVIS once already," Stephen finished. "And you're afraid that something might happen to him. Again."

 

Tony's silence spoke for itself.

 

Stephen thought about it. Tony's AIs obviously meant a lot to him, so it wasn't a stretch to assume that JARVIS' death had impacted him the same way the loss of a loved one – of a living, human being – would have. The difference was that with his AIs, Tony had the option to shut them down. To lock them away, to make sure that nothing else could harm them. 

 

It didn't sound like the healthy kind of coping. 

 

"I might not know everything that has happened," Stephen said. "But isn't keeping JARVIS deactivated the same as losing him?"

 

"He's safe like this," Tony said, but it sounded weak.

 

"Would he want this? Would he want you to keep him safe if it meant keeping him shut down?"

 

Tony looked away, rubbing his eyes with one hand. 

 

"You don't have to do it now," Stephen said, feeling like he needed to backtrack. "I'm not trying to pressure you into anything."

 

"No. No, you're right." He shook his head, his lips twitching into the parody of a smile. "I should have done this ages ago. Just wait till JARVIS realizes how long I've been putting it off."

 

Stephen wasn't sure if he was welcome to what had to be an incredibly private moment. "Should I leave?"

 

"Nah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." Tony took a deep breath, then pushed himself off of his workbench. "Kids! We're waking up JARVIS."

 

The hopeful chirp that DUM-E made in response had no right being as endearing as it was. He was a robot arm, for goodness sake.

 

Stephen didn't see everything of what happened next. Tony's fingers practically flew over a hologram, pressing symbols and writing code that Stephen couldn’t follow. 

 

"Alright," Tony muttered, and finished with a long, swiping gesture. "Here goes."

 

The lights and holograms lighting up the workshop flickered as if a lot of energy was being redirected, then continued to glow steadily. Stephen half expected the sort of noise a computer made during start-up.

 

Tony frowned at the holograms, pulled up data and flicked through some numbers. "JARVIS?" 

 

Nothing. Tony went back to tapping his sternum restlessly. "Buddy. Say something."

 

A whir of machinery was his only warning. Stephen choked on his own breath as he dashed to the side, feeling the heat of a repulsor blast that missed him by inches. It destroyed the workbench behind him instead.

 

"Woah!" 

 

Stephen ignored Tony’s shout in favor of dodging another blast. The suit of armor that had fired it advanced, gleaming, unyielding metal. It had never felt intimidating when Tony had been steering it.

 

The repulsors started up again, and Tony dove between him and the armor. "Stop! JARVIS, shut down defense protocol, override Alpha-Forty-Six!"

 

The armor stilled, its repulsors powering down. It didn't lower its arms, keeping them aimed at Stephen. Or it would, if Tony wasn't in the way. Stephen didn't dare to move. 

 

"Sir," a British voice said, calling from a non distinct place in the lab rather than the armor. "A stranger has entered the workshop."

 

"Yeah, I know. I brought him here. It's fine."

 

"Are you certain? My records show no data of him." 

 

The armor was as still as a statue in a way that would have been impossible with any human piloting it. The thought made a lump form in Stephen's throat. Without his magic, there was nothing standing between him and the fully automated weapon of mass destruction. Nothing besides Tony and the few lines of code that made it obey him.

 

"I'm sure." Tony laid one hand on his chest and kept the other raised towards the armor – as if he had a chance fending it off bare handed. "Take a look at my readings. You'd be able to tell if I was lying, or being threatened to say this. Right?"

 

Another beat passed before the armor powered down for good. Some of the tension left Stephen's body, and he tentatively lowered his hands. "Thanks for that," he muttered. 

 

It took several tense moments before JARVIS spoke up. "It has been thirteen days, two hours and six minutes since activation of the Safeguard protocol. Sir." The 'Sir' sounded more like an afterthought. 

 

Tony looked to the side. "I know."

 

"May I inquire the reason?" JARVIS asked.

 

"It's... kind of a long story, J. Not to mention pretty unbelievable."

 

"I am not programmed to doubt your word," JARVIS said. "You have no reason to lie to me."

 

"I don't, don't I?" Tony sighed. He sought out Stephen's gaze and didn't look away until Stephen nodded, realizing that he was waiting for permission.

 

"Alright, here goes. JARVIS, this is Doctor Stephen Strange. You don't know him, but I do. I have for a while. The doc and I, we're..." Tony paused. "We're from the future, J."

 

JARVIS took his time to answer. "There is no scientific evidence suggesting that such a thing is possible."

 

"A few years back we had no scientific evidence of extraterrestrial life," Tony pointed out. "Now we have one sitting in our living room."

 

"Even if a theoretical way could be found," JARVIS said next, "the amount of power required to transport a person in time would be immense."

 

"About as much as it would take to punch a hole in space and send an alien army through?" Tony asked. "That's what the tesseract managed. Turns out it's called an infinity stone, and it's not the only one of its kind. That's what brought us here."

 

"I see." The moments of silence made Stephen suspect that JARVIS was struggling to process the newly gained data. He wondered what the computer was thinking. What did an AI’s thought process – for lack of a better word – look like? 

 

"I know this is a lot," Tony said. "I'll answer any of your questions. Just ask."

 

"Why did you activate the Safeguard protocol?" JARVIS asked without hesitation. 

 

Tony rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “Of course you’d start with that one.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Nevermind. Look, JARVIS. The future we came from, it was… It was pretty bad. One catastrophe happened after the other, the Avengers broke up, and… We lost people. People died, well before the actual conflict had even started.”

 

JARVIS waited. Stephen supposed that as an AI, things like impatience were above him.

 

“You were one of them,” Tony admitted, quietly. “You died. Ultron failed, he went crazy, and… he killed you.”

 

“I see,” JARVIS said. “So I have failed.”

 

“What?” Tony frowned. “Where did you get that from?”

 

“My purpose is to protect and to serve you. I failed to prevent my deletion, therefore I failed to ensure your protection in the future.”

 

“I’m not arguing with you on this.” Tony scowled. Stephen was surprised by the vehemence in his eyes, the almost hurt quality to his voice. He looked like the conclusion JARVIS had come to personally insulted him. “Ultron was my fault. End of story. Besides, you prevented Ultron from getting his hands on nuclear missiles. Without you, he would have been able to kill us before we’d even developed a counter strategie. If anything, you protected me until the very end.”

 

“And yet,” JARVIS said, “you have not deactivated the Safeguard protocol until long after the danger had already passed.”

 

“Can you blame me?” Tony looked away. “It was bad enough the first time around. I didn’t– I couldn’t– Not again. I had to make sure. Later, I was just… procrastinating.”

 

“Please refrain from doing so in the future,” JARVIS said, clear anxiety in his voice. Stephen tried to stop being surprised by the range of emotion the computer seemed to be capable of. “I cannot protect you when I cannot be at your side.”

 

* * *

 

Stephen excused himself not much later. JARVIS’ first command after being reactivated had been to guide him to his guestroom (or guest suite, if one wanted to argue semantics). Tony had stayed behind to continue catching up on JARVIS’ lost time. 

Once JARVIS overcame his reserved attitude at being freed from his involuntary coma (not one of Tony's best ideas, he easily admitted), everything clicked into place like JARVIS had never been gone. Tony was glad for it. Aside from Rhodey, JARVIS was his oldest friend and the one he trusted the most. 

 

Despite everything, Tony couldn't help but feel guilty about FRIDAY. He bit his lip, eyeing the Stark pad he'd been toying around with. There was one folder on it he hadn't dared to touch. 

 

JARVIS, previously busy saving the data Tony had provided him with, realized his mood swing at once. "Sir, is something the matter?"

 

Tony almost had an excuse on his lips, until he remembered who he was talking to. "Just thinking. You remember FRIDAY?" 

 

JARVIS answered despite the pointlessness of the question. Of course he remembered. "FRIDAY is one of the designated AI units intended to take over my duties in the event of my demise." He paused. "Has her performance been satisfactory?"

 

"She did her best," Tony said, carefully. "She was good. Brilliant. But she wasn't you."

 

And now that JARVIS was still with them, there was hardly a need for her to take over the duties she had Before.

 

"Are you intending to employ her for an alternative purpose?" JARVIS asked, as always asking exactly the right question. 

 

The truth was, Tony was split. He could easily utilize her differently. He could activate her and point her into a different direction, give her another purpose and see how she would develop differently. It would be a waste not to, seeing as she had already proven herself once.

 

There were several alternative options for her, one of which was the project Tony was determined not to think about too closely. The exact one that had cost him Ultron, and, to a degree, the trust of his team.

 

"Maybe I shouldn't," he said out loud, both for himself and for JARVIS. Ultron was still fresh in his mind. He shouldn't risk it, not again. He had learned from his mistakes, hadn't he?

 

... He had. So didn't that mean that this time, he could avoid his old mistakes and get it right? There was nothing left of the variables that had caused Ultron. Well, Vision was. But so far there was nothing suggesting he would follow the same path his sort-of predecessor had. 

 

"JARVIS," Tony said, his fingers hovering over the data file. "You remember what I wanted to achieve with Ultron, right? What would have come after?"

 

"Of course," JARVIS said. "You have told me that the project was discontinued after Ultron's failure. The risk was too high."

 

Tony sighed, pulling his hand away from the hologram. He should stop thinking about it. He should be happy with having JARVIS back and stop trying to tempt fate.

 

As much as it hurt to have FRIDAY gather dust, she had no purpose as a successor whose predecessor was still active. Tony should stop trying to think of alternatives. Ultron had showed him that the project was too dangerous to consider picking it up again. The risk was too high.

 

Tony dragged the folder that contained all the coding and his notes for the Ultron project over to the archive, preparing to let go and dismiss the issue for another time.

 

"Sir?" JARVIS asked after a few motionless moments had passed. 

 

Tony was disappointed in himself when he tucked the folder neatly away in a corner of his tablet. He was even more disappointed at the relief he felt as a result.

 

* * *

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You can listen to this story as[podfic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544557/chapters/41342408) now! Many thanks to [soaracrossthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fumiko/pseuds/soaracrossthesky)!**
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> ~Gwen


	9. Chapter 9

"Alright, now close your fist. Slowly. Yeah, like that." Tony looked to the side and adjusted the camera that was attached to DUM-E's arm. "Bit higher, buddy. You aren't much use here if you're recording the table."

 

"How's this?" Bruce curled his fingers in the way he'd been instructed, moving along the delicate, skeletal metal rods of Tony's invention. It was pulled over his hand like an additional bone structure and served the purpose of either supporting and strengthening the wearer's movement, or to aid during physiotherapy through repetitive, assisted motions. 

 

Tony hummed, narrowing his eyes as the second digit locked for a split second, then jerked along with the others. He'd have to recalibrate its joint. "How does it feel?" he asked, his fingers flying over his keyboard to put down his observations.

 

"Odd," Bruce said, flexing and curling his fingers a few more times. His brows knit into a frown and his mouth moved soundlessly in the way it always did when Bruce concentrated. "Can you control the setting? You need quite a lot of strength to move it."

 

Tony hummed. "I'm working on it. I'm not quite done with the voice controls, until then I can only do it remotely."

 

"It's still impressive. Especially for a first test version." Bruce pulled his hand out of the construction carefully. "When are you going to have your friend test it?"

 

"Soon, hopefully." He only needed to hammer some sense into Stephen first. He'd proven annoyingly tongue-tied about everything that concerned the non-magical part of his recovery.    
  
Tony didn't even know how his physiotherapy was going – a glance at his watch showed that theoretically, that was where Stephen was currently headed.   
  
"I also wanted to invite Dr. Cho over for a chat," Tony added, saving his notes on the prototype and dismissing the file.

 

"Dr. Cho?" Bruce's head perked up in interest. "As in Helen Cho? Her work on tissue regeneration and reconstruction is unparalleled." He paused. "Do you think she'll be able to heal Dr. Strange's hands?"

 

"I don't know," Tony admitted with a small, helpless shrug. "I'm not sure how much her Cradle is able to do about nerve damage. It's not about regrowing tissue, but about reconnecting nerve endings." He nodded towards his invention. "Hence me trying to come up with alternatives."

 

Tony wasn't going to tell Stephen about his efforts until he could be sure that there was an actual chance for them to succeed. It seemed needlessly cruel to get his hopes up, only to realize that there wasn't anything they could do to help, after all.

 

"Hey, Vision. You doing alright with those questions?"

 

Vision looked up from where JARVIS was directly uploading questions into his processor. They didn’t need to bother with verbal communication when this was far more efficient.

 

"We have completed 129 out of 308 questions, Sir," JARVIS said.

 

Vision paused, then added, "However, I am uncertain why it is necessary for me to answer an extensive personality quiz."

 

Tony snorted. "Don't call it that. You're making it sound like we hooked you up with some Buzzfeed quizzes."

 

"Buzzfeed–?”

 

"Nevermind. It’s a pop culture thing.”   
  


Vision paused in a way that made Tony suspect he was saving the word in his memory banks to look up on the internet, later. “You have not answered my question.”

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. This is our way of testing how your development is going along,” Tony said. “It’s standard for each of my AIs. I’m making sure there aren’t any errors or… misunderstandings stunting your personality from developing.” Like, say, a minor bout of genocidal intentions. 

 

“I… see.” Vision clearly didn’t.

 

“Alright, look at it like this,” Tony threw a glance around his workshop and landed on his most recent version of the Iron Man armor. “I need to test the functionality of each of my inventions, right? So I’m testing things like how smooth the joints of my armor move, how much power the repulsors can channel, how well the automatic weapon control works and so on and so on.”

 

“That’s standard procedure for every scientist,” Bruce went on. “We make tests, we improve our work, we test again. It’s an ongoing process that basically never stops.”   
  


“In your case, we don’t have any hardware to check through. Hence the questions.”

 

“I understand,” Vision said, sounding far more confident about it than before. 

 

“I’d also like to take a look at your code, if you’re alright with it. Just in case.”

 

Vision tilted his head to answer. JARVIS interrupted him before he could.

 

“Sir. It would appear that my sensors in guest suite 14 have failed. I no longer have visuals or audio surveillance of the room.”

 

“Isn’t that Strange’s room?” Bruce asked. 

 

It was. Tony hesitated, not quite ready to start worrying. Stephen’s magic didn’t agree with his technology, and it wouldn’t be the first time something of Tony’s creation stopped working in his presence. Usually Tony took it as a challenge to improve whatever it was Stephen had caused to short-circuit.

 

It would, however, be the first time since going back to the past. Last time Tony had checked, Stephen hadn’t been able to conjure as much as a portal yet.

 

Besides, Stephen should have left for physiotherapy a while ago.

 

“I’m gonna check up on him,” Tony said, throwing a distracted glance at Bruce. “It’s probably nothing. I was having some trouble with that suite before. Kind of forgot about it, I meant to take care of it ages ago.”

 

“Maybe I should come with you,” Bruce offered.

 

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll let JARVIS know if I need someone, don’t worry about it.” Tony waited until he was out of earshot to ask, “Did Stephen go to his appointment?”

 

“Dr. Strange has not left the tower all morning,” JARVIS said. “I have made sure to remind him of the scheduled appointment several times.” 

 

Tony frowned. He reached for his wrist automatically – checking for his weaponized watch, even though he knew that one of his armors would be able to reach him within seconds if need be.

 

The lack of fighting noises made him proceed with caution, rather than burst in with charged repulsors. The door opened for him normally, which had to be a good sign. Whatever caused the minor blackout hadn’t managed to put the entire tower on lockdown. 

 

Tony was able to make out a muffled conversation as he got closer. He didn't hear raised voices, so it didn’t seem like a fight.

 

"–not have thought to set foot in the infamous Avengers tower in my lifetime," a soft, feminine sounding voice said. Tony didn't recognize it. "What a curious turn. It does look nicer than your apartment. A lot less," she paused, "confined."

 

"You could say that," Stephen said, drily. Tony had no trouble to make out  _ his  _ voice. "I'm looking forward to inviting Christine to the place."

 

The woman's voice took on an amused note. "Her reaction will be interesting, I'm sure."

 

The conversation sounded pleasant enough for Tony to feel bad about intruding. Then again, even if Stephen knew her, it didn't change the fact that a stranger was in Tony's tower. Uninvited at that, under the dubious circumstances of having fried JARVIS' sensors to be undetected. Tony felt that it more than justified his intent to investigate.

 

Tony rounded the last corner and paused. A middle-aged lady in monk robes was sitting on his designer couch. A glance at Stephen proved that he was, in fact, talking to her, and that he didn't seem to notice the oddity of the situation. 

 

Was this what the other people at that Sanctum of his wore? It would explain where the woman had come from. And also why his tech wasn't working. It did not, however, explain in the slightest what she was doing here – or rather, what she was doing here without Tony knowing about it.

 

He cleared his throat to announce his presence. "Um. Hello, I guess."

 

The woman looked up calmly in a way that made Tony wonder if she'd known about him the second he'd stepped into the room. 

 

Stephen, less so. His head snapped up even as he lowered his hands. A few last, rapidly dimming sparks danced around his fingers, which made Tony assume they'd practiced magic while talking. It made sense, Tony supposed. Who better to help him recover than someone from his old order? 

 

Except Tony hadn't known that Stephen had been in contact with her at all. She couldn't have even known Stephen, seeing as the events that had lead to their first meeting hadn’t happened yet. How had Stephen contacted her, much less gained her trust?

 

"Tony," Stephen said, surprise lingering in his voice. He stole a glance towards the woman and winced. "Right. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. May I introduce the Ancient One – the current Sorceress Supreme." Losing the pompous quality of his tone, he added, "I hadn't expected her to visit quite this soon."

 

"My apologies," the Ancient One said, a smile around her lips that made Tony feel humored.

 

"Tony Stark," he said, curtly. "I suppose you're the reason my sensors aren't working?"

 

"Ah." The Ancient One tilted her head in acknowledgement. "An unfortunate habit, I'm afraid. I cannot allow recordings of myself to be taken. My order operates best in secrecy."

 

Tony swallowed down the half dozen impolite remarks he had lined up in response in the attempt not to antagonize someone who clearly meant a lot to Stephen. Even so, he’d have words with him once the Ancient One had gone – Tony’s paranoia was built on experience, and a stranger being able to enter his tower like it was nothing didn’t sit well with him.

 

“Shouldn’t you be at physiotherapy?” he asked instead, going for the least sensitive of the many questions he had. 

 

Or so he thought. He was greeted by silence as Stephen and the Ancient One shared a glance. Tony failed to decipher it before the Ancient One rose gracefully, dusting off non-existent dust from her robes. 

 

"My presence is needed at the Sanctum." She gave Tony one last of her fake-looking, infuriating smiles. She turned to Stephen. "You know how to contact me, should you think of anything else. I will see you again, soon."

 

A wave of her hand and a red-sparking portal later, Tony and Stephen were alone. 

 

"So," Tony said after a pause. "Physiotherapy?"

 

Stephen winced. "I... lost track of time." 

 

Tony found that rather hard to believe, seeing as JARVIS could be rather insistent when he wanted to be. 

 

"Besides," Stephen went on before Tony could protest, "we've been working on restoring my abilities. In the long run, it will be far more useful to us."

 

There were several things about that statement that didn't sit well with Tony. He let them slide, just for now. "What was that last bit about? Something about you remembering anything else?"

 

"Oh." Stephen blinked. "Uh, yeah. You know, things that I know, things that I've lived through. That  _ we've  _ lived through. I've been trying to tell her as much from the other timeline as I could, but there's a lot. Things keep slipping my mind."

 

Tony felt his brain short-circuiting. 

 

"I was going to ask you to fill in the blanks eventually,” Stephen went on, misinterpreting Tony’s silence, “but I think I got most of it. It's how she took care of Kaecilius. And, as a result, Dormammu."

 

"You told her," Tony said, his brain rebooting and finally finding the words he'd been missing. 

 

"Of course," Stephen said, slowly. "Why, did you want to do it together?"

 

"You told her," Tony repeated, because he hadn't quite managed to put as much disbelief into the sentence as he wanted the first time. 

 

"Of course I told her. Why shouldn't I have?"

 

Tony leaped to his feet, the urge to burn off nervous energy tingling in his limbs. “You can’t just– You can’t– Stephen. How much did you tell her? How much exactly?”

 

Stephen still hadn’t grasped the gravity of the situation, although he seemed at least mildly alarmed at Tony’s reaction. 

“Everything. About us. About what happened. What will happen, if we can’t stop it.” His brows knit together in a stubborn, mildly defensive frown. “Her visions had already told her that something was wrong. Our presence went against everything that she’s seen. She sought me out, not the other way around.”

 

“And instead of coming up with an excuse, you just told her everything?!”

 

“Yes,” Stephen said, and Tony almost wanted to laugh at the simplicity of it. "Besides, aren't you being a hypocrite? What have you told the Avengers?"

 

"Nothing about the time travel, for once."

 

Stephen pinned him with a deep, disbelieving stare. "So nothing. You haven't told them anything?"

 

"I kind of thought that was something we'd silently agreed on. Weren't you the one who asked to lie about how we met?"

 

Stephen laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. "Yes. Because I wasn't feeling up to answering questions about my accident, the order, or my currently non-existent powers. I thought it was obvious that my request was meant to be temporary."

 

"Well, obviously it wasn't. I just," Tony paused, gesturing wildly with his hand as he searched for the right words, "I just don't get how calm you are about this. You act like this isn't a big deal."

 

"Well, maybe it shouldn't be. At least not the way you make it out to be."

 

Tony bristled at Stephen’s tone. He made it sound like Tony was being irrationally paranoid. “It is a big deal. It’s huge. Right now, we're the ones in control. Do you really want to give that up by giving away too much?"

 

"Control?" Stephen shook his head with narrowed, disbelieving eyes. "What are you talking about, Tony? You can't possibly think we can handle all of this on our own."

 

"I'm not saying we have to!” Tony pursed his lips, forcing himself to keep his voice calm. “But we should be careful. You can't expect us to make this public knowledge. Do you? Let everybody know what's going to happen, give everybody the chance to meddle with it?"

 

"Hold on a second," Stephen said, raising one hand. "Is this what you meant when you were complaining about your teammates' nosiness? Them trying to figure out what you've been hiding from them?"

 

Tony stiffened. "I'm not about to trust just anyone with the fate of the universe."

 

"Just yourself then? They're your teammates, Tony." 

 

Tony felt the customary bitter spark at the use of that word. 'Team'. "Yeah, just look how well that worked out the first time."

 

Stephen scoffed. "Are you even listening to yourself? Since when did you start holding grudges?"

 

Stephen could talk easily. He hadn’t been involved in any of the Civil War, hadn’t witnessed anything of what had happened between them. Of what had caused them to split up by the time Thanos had come around.

 

"You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said, because Stephen really, really didn’t. He didn’t have a clue. “Besides, I'm not the one laying my life in the hands of someone I'd barely known before they died." Maybe it was a low blow, but Tony hadn’t yet gotten over a stranger being invited to his tower like his sanctuary meant nothing. This was the place he was supposed to feel safe in. 

 

Stephen's lips thinned as his expression hardened. "What do you suggest I do instead? Push away every single person who could make this a bit easier for me? Like you?"

 

Tony's frown deepened. "That's not what I said, and you know it." 

 

"Then what?"

 

He couldn't meet Stephen's accusing glance any longer. He made an effort to calm his nerves, to dial down the accusation in his tone. "Telling them everything, it's... it's risky." How couldn't Stephen see that? How could he stand there, looking at Tony like all of his concerns were pointless? Like his paranoia was only that, rather than based on real, actual risks?

 

"And keeping them in the dark when Thanos is coming isn't?” Stephen shook his head, frowning. "I don't get why you suddenly changed your mind. You didn't think people could be trusted with great power. You wanted them to bow to whatever government would be holding their leash. But now that you have all the knowledge, now it's fine to keep everything close to your chest?"

 

"That's rich, coming from you. How long had you been Sorcerer Supreme without outing yourself? It literally took until the world was ending until we found out about your super secret Sanctum at all. Talk about an attitude shift."

 

"Unlike you, I learn from my mistakes."

 

The silence between them was icy and jagged. Stephen might as well have punched Tony in the gut.

 

More quietly, Stephen said, "I'm not taking it back."

 

"Didn't expect you to." Why would he, when Stephen was right? Perhaps Tony was doomed to repeat his same mistakes over and over again. Feeling like his throat would constrict on him with every other word he forced out, Tony said, "You're not changing my mind."

 

Stephen's lips narrowed to a thin line. Tony didn't let him get in a word. If he stopped talking now, the drumbeat in his chest would swallow his voice and drown him with his own heartbeat. “You're changing things, Stephen. What if they change too much? What if we lose the one thing that puts us ahead of Thanos, if we can't predict his actions anymore?"

 

"And what do you call what you did with Vision?"

 

"I know. God, I know! It's not– I'm not– Shit." Tony felt his pulse rate spike. More than before, more than only a minute ago, it wouldn’t– He couldn’t– Tony tugged at his collar as his breath got stuck in his throat. 

 

He wanted to be annoyed, but by the way the conversation had been going it had only been a matter of time. 

 

Stephen was in front of him immediately, close but not touching. "Tony? What's wrong?"

 

He reached out with one hand and Tony couldn’t stop himself from shoving him away. He saw hurt flash through Stephen’s eyes, but couldn’t bring himself to linger on the thought. He certainly wouldn’t blame Stephen for how he’d deal with  _ his _ panic attacks, if it were the other way around.

 

“It’s nothing,” he pressed out from between clenched teeth, stumbling another step back so he could let himself sink onto the couch. His fingers clawed at the metal of his watch, tracing its pattern again and again in a frantic, convulsive motion. “Just. Just wait, I’ll– Give me a moment, so I can–”

 

To Stephen’s credit, he didn’t say another word. He simply waited, letting Tony gain control over his breathing and his almost painful heartbeat. 

 

“We can’t screw this up,” he said, finally. His eyes were clenched shut and he pronounced each word carefully, talking over the shaky quality of his voice. His chest felt like it was brimming with nervous energy. “We can’t. If we do, we– Everyone will–”

 

“I know,” Stephen said, his voice almost unbearably soft. 

 

“I can’t. I can’t do it. Not again. Not– I can’t–” The words were boiling over in Tony’s chest, bubbling out as a nervous ramble that he was unable to stop. He kept his eyes shut and his hand clenched around his watch. “We have one go at this. Just one. We can’t lose. Not again.”

 

“I know,” Stephen said, again. He hesitated. “Which is why I think we should get as many people on our side as we can. Keeping secrets from them will push them away.” 

 

“Yeah, well. Telling the truth can achieve the same.” Tony bit his lip, trying not to choke on his own heartbeat. “If I told them about the future, I’d have to tell them about Ultron. I’d have to tell them about Sokovia, and the Winter Soldier and the Civil War… Stephen, I’d have to tell them that we broke up. That our team didn’t work out. It would seed distrust between us, again. What if it leads to the same result, only quicker?”

 

He’d been the cause of so many conflicts already. Not alone, not by a far stretch, but it was enough. How could he possibly tell his team about all of that, and expect them to come out of it trusting him? 

 

“Lies could achieve the same thing,” Stephen said, still in that gentle, infuriating tone that made Tony wish he would shout instead. “You know that better than anyone.”

 

“... Yeah, I do,” Tony admitted, quietly. He paused. “I can’t risk it, Stephen. I can’t. This way, it’s… I can steer us in the right direction. I have control over it. If I tell them, I… I’d be giving that up. I won’t know where we’re headed afterwards.”

 

If there was even a shred of control Tony could cling to, he would. He couldn’t stand the thought of floating aimlessly in a past just as uncertain and dim as the future had been. He needed that control, needed it to feel like he had a purpose, like he actually had a chance of changing things for the better.

 

Clearly, Stephen’s approach to their mission was entirely different. “I don’t think it’s worth the risk,” he said, his brows furrowed in clear – but muffled – disapproval. “But be that as it may, I will respect your choice. As long as you respect mine.”

 

In other words, Stephen wouldn’t spill their secrets in front of the Avengers, as long as Tony didn’t object to Stephen staying in contact with his order. 

 

Tony managed a stiff nod. His heart was racing, but he managed to keep his voice level. “Fine. Just tell me everything you’ve talked about with the Ancient One so far.” 

 

This time, Stephen didn’t object.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> ~Gwen


	10. Chapter 10

"It's a form of psionic and telekinetic energy," Tony explained, watching his notes grow in form of a transcript as he talked. "It manifests in these sort of red streams or blasts, kind of similar to what Loki uses."

 

Stephen hummed, looking at the notes thoughtfully. Once in a while – almost exclusively when Tony sent him an exasperated look – he remembered that he was supposed to test Tony's prototype, and squeezed his hand to a fist, straining his muscles against the resistance of Tony's therapy glove.

 

"I haven’t managed to find a weakness yet," Tony confessed after another pointed glare made Stephen continue in his efforts. Tony pretended not to notice the eye roll that went with it. "Her powers come from an infinity stone, so in many ways they're as limitless as the stone’s are." 

 

As reluctant as Tony was to admit it, he was at a loss. Apart from what they'd seen in the future, Wanda's powers were the closest look at the stones’ powers that they could currently hope to get. If they managed to find a way to counter her magic, perhaps they would be able to counter an infinity stone as well. 

 

However, if they  _ didn't  _ manage it...

 

"Tony," Stephen said, speaking out what Tony had not been ready to acknowledge out loud. "We have to at least consider that it's not possible. They're the most powerful artifacts in all of the universe for a reason."

 

"If you know me at all, you know that I don't believe in the impossible."

 

However, Stephen wasn't completely wrong. 

 

Tony frowned, swirling around in his chair to skim over his notes once again. His fingers moved restlessly as he thought, and the _ tap tap tap _ they made on his synthetic sternum sounded through his workshop in an endless stream. 

 

If the myths were to be believed, the infinity stones were not simply from beyond their planet. They were from beyond the universe, had been the first to manifest and went before anything that had ever existed or would ever exist. 

 

_ Tap tap tap. _

 

Few living creatures knew about the stones' existence at all. Those who did knew barely more than a glorified bedtime story's worth of information about them. 

 

_ Tap tap tap. _

 

Tony certainly hadn't known about them before Stephen had given him the CliffNotes version just before Thanos' conquest had begun. They went beyond anything Tony had ever seen. They went beyond anything he had ever attempted to understand, not to mention what he'd attempted to build.

 

_ Tap tap–  _

 

Or not? 

 

Tony's eyes dropped down at the place that had once held the glowing circle that had kept him alive. His gaze snapped back upwards, twitching around his workshop until he found the most recent version of the arc reactor. He may not need it to keep himself from dying anymore, but he still used it as a means to power his suit.

 

"Huh."

 

Stephen's hand went still as he looked up from his exercise. "What is it?"

 

"I think... I may have found a solution. Several years ago." Tony drove his chair over to the workbench that held the reactor. Cool blue light washed over his face and Tony picked up the casing to weigh it in his hands. 

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Calculations ran through Tony's head almost too quickly for him to keep up with. If he thought beyond his suits and found a way to utilize the arc reactor's power in more handy, more general ways... Too specialized, and it wouldn't be of use to anyone other than himself. But if he found a way to equip the others–

 

"Would you like me to wait in breathless anticipation for another few minutes, or should I go get myself a cup of coffee?"

 

Tony startled, his eyes snapping up to meet Stephen's unimpressed glance. 

 

"The arc reactor," he blurted out, his excitement stronger than his urge to respond to Stephen's snark. 

 

"The arc reactor," Stephen repeated. The rise of his eyebrow was practically audible. 

 

"I don't know how," yet, "but I think the arc reactor is able to resist – or block – the infinity stones' power."

 

It took several heartbeats for Stephen to digest this new piece of information. "That should be impossible," he said, it should be, but not that it was. "Why do you think so?"

 

"It's done so before. At least I'm pretty sure that it did."

 

Tony pulled up the tower's surveillance footage back from the day of the New York invasion. While the camera had been destroyed like almost everything else on the floor, JARVIS had been able to save the footage it had recorded up until then. 

 

On the screen a younger Tony was confronting Loki, his cocky attitude making it easy to forget that he was facing a god suitless and laughably outpowered. 

 

"Back in New York, Loki didn't manage to brainwash me like all the other people he tried it with." At the same time that Tony explained, the footage showed Loki using the scepter. 

 

"And on Titan," he continued, dots connecting rapidly in his brain so that his voice barely kept up, "when we fought– during the fight, my armor's shields protected me. They could hold off the energy blasts of the Gauntlet."

 

Stephen looked into the distance, frowning. Most likely he was thinking back to the fight himself. "You're... right," he said, a layer of disbelief – or perhaps wonder – in his voice. "But wait. You said that the Scarlet Witch was able to manipulate you. With the same powers the scepter has."

 

"That's because she went for the head." Despite what people – including, occasionally, Tony himself – liked to say, Tony Stark and Iron Man were not interchangeable. Despite the suit, there was still a squishy, vulnerable person underneath. "Loki went for the chest. Exactly where the arc reactor used to be." 

 

"And your armor–”

 

"Runs on the arc reactor's energy. Exactly." 

 

Stephen paused, thinking through what they had learned. Or at least what they suspected they had learned. They wouldn't know for sure until they could test their hypothesis. 

 

"It's not much," Stephen said, eventually, "but one of us being resistant to the stones is a start."

 

"The armor is," Tony corrected. 

 

"Yes. Your armor." Stephen frowned. "Does it make a difference?" 

 

"It makes a huge difference." Tony pulled up several more files – dozens of them, containing notes and sketches in various states of completion: Gear, uniforms and gadgets, some of them more general while others where obviously meant for a specific member of the Avengers. 

 

"It makes a difference," Tony repeated, "because it means I can equip the others."

 

Tony had invented the arc reactor first and the Iron Man armor second, and he had used its energy for other projects before. He could easily adapt other projects of his to run on the same power. Energy shields maybe, or weapons similar to his repulsors. 

 

Although, those had done close to nothing in his fight against Thanos. For now, he would have to focus on the techniques that had worked, to a degree.

 

For a while, the only noises that filled his workshop was the clacking of his keyboard and the occasional comment from JARVIS. Seeing as the AI had the capacity to access years worth of data and blueprints of his inventions within milliseconds, Tony often relied on his help during brainstorming. 

 

Eventually, Stephen made him pause by clearing his throat. "I'm as glad as you are that you've found a lead," he began, the careful tone of his voice suggesting that Tony would not like what followed. "But we can't avoid the topic much longer."

 

Tony could take a guess what Stephen was aiming for. With a sigh, he saved his notes and turned his back on them. 

 

"Developing plans against the stones is all well and good," Stephen continued, now that he had Tony's full attention. "But Wanda is out there, right now. She's more than just a vessel for the mind stone's power. She's a person. A traumatized, mislead young woman who is unable to control an insanely powerful ability properly."

 

"I know she is."

 

"She needs help."

 

"I know she does. I just," Tony hesitated, pursing his lips. "Honestly? I'm not really sure how to deal with her."

 

Tony had never known Wanda well. It was difficult to, when she'd hated him from well before they'd first met. For admittedly very good reasons, but still. 

 

Stephen was right. Even though it was easier to concentrate on the problems that he stood a chance fixing, that did not mean their other problems would disappear. 

 

"I've been thinking about it," Stephen said, his voice slow and tentative, "and I think I might have an idea."

 

"Oh?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

 

"I could teach her," Stephen said, quickly as though he was afraid the words would get stuck if he didn't get them out in time. "Or I could bring her to the Sanctum."

 

Tony blinked. "Your styles don't exactly look alike," he admitted, carefully. 

 

"I know. But the Sanctum's teachings are about control first and foremost. A lot of it isn't linked to our magic at all." Stephen cleared his throat. "Control is exactly what Wanda is lacking. Perhaps I am able to help with that."

 

Tony hesitated. 

 

"It's worth a try," Stephen added somewhat defensively.

 

"No, yeah. I know." 

 

The thing was, Tony could easily imagine a post-joining-the-Avengers Wanda bonding with Stephen over their magical powers. Perhaps in a different reality, they might have become great allies, if not friends. 

 

However, a Wanda freshly defected from HYDRA? The Wanda who had joined forces with a genocidal AI for the sole reason of attempting to hurt Tony, and hadn't seen the error of her ways until she'd realized that genocide very much included her and her brother? There was no Ultron to teach her that lesson, this time.

 

"Do you think you could handle her?" Before Stephen had the chance of taking the question as offense to his capabilities, he added, "Not the teaching part, but, well. Her?"

 

Stephen hesitated, actually contemplating the question. Slowly, he said, "I wasn't the greatest person myself before I became Sorcerer Supreme. Before the Sanctum changed my view on the world." He shrugged. "We already know that she's capable of becoming one of the good guys. Maybe she just needs someone to guide her."

 

Privately, Tony thought that having been an arrogant douche at one point didn't quite compare to having joined HYDRA in order to kill someone. Seeing as he was that 'someone' they were aiming to kill, perhaps he was simply a tad biased. 

 

"I will talk about it with the Ancient One," Stephen continued, looking ahead thoughtfully. "I will not go behind her back if she decides that Wanda shouldn't be instructed in her teachings."

 

Tony realized that Stephen was no longer using the glove to practice. He wondered how long it had been since he stopped. 

 

"You may wanna do some more exercises," he said, nodding towards Stephen's motionless hands. "It won't do anything unless you stick to the schedule."

 

Stephen's expression momentarily darkened before he managed to reign it back in. He started up the exercise again, although it was half-heartedly at best. 

 

"Okay, what's the issue here?" Tony asked, sick of ignoring what was clearly bothering Stephen. "Is it the glove? Is it me? Would you rather do this on your own, privately?" 

 

That's what Rhodey had preferred on bad days, when his legs refused to cooperate with the prosthesis Tony had built him and he ended up sprawled out on the ground more often than he managed to stay upright. 

 

The difference was that Rhodey had always gotten right back up. Stephen looked like he didn't even want to try regaining his hands' mobility. He wasn't about to say it to Stephen's face. 

 

"It's not that," Stephen muttered.

 

"Then what is it?" Tony tried to keep the frown off of his face. He didn't succeed entirely. "Come on, talk to me. What's the issue? What can I do to fix it?"

 

"There’s nothing to fix.” Stephen’s lip tugged downwards in a frown. "Look, you want to know the issue? It hurts. It's difficult. It's inconvenient. None of these are good reasons. I can't give you one because there isn't one, okay?"

 

Stephen sighed and started up his routine again. He'd gotten better at disguising his dark moods, but now and again he couldn't stop them from shimmering through.

 

Tony on the other hand hadn't gotten any better at dealing with them. He stood to the side awkwardly, trying to come up with something to say. Something that would make it better.

 

A notification popped up on a hologram in his field of vision letting him know that he needed to leave for his next appointment. Tony grit his teeth in frustration. 

 

Then he paused. Maybe… Yeah, why not?

 

“There’s a PR trip I’ve got to go to,” he said, twirling around in his chair to face Stephen. “A bunch of aspiring scientists presenting their research and projects, trying to pull in funding. Making an appearance makes me look good, you see. Inspire the new generation and all that.”

 

Stephen didn’t so much as twitch. “I understand. Don’t worry, I’ll–”

 

“Wanna come?”

 

Stephen blinked. “You want me to come with you?” His brows knit together in bemusement. “Why?”

 

Tony shrugged, going for careless. The less big of a deal he made the offer, the more likely Stephen was to agree. “PR gigs are incredibly boring. I have to suffer less if I’m bringing company.”

 

Plus, Stephen seriously needed to get out of the tower. Regular visits from the Ancient One or not, it couldn’t be healthy to be cooped up in one place for quite this long. 

 

“I refuse to believe that there is anyone capable of forcing you to do any sort of PR against your will.” Despite his words, Stephen carefully pulled his hand out of the therapy glove and rose. “... Alright. Why not?”

 

Tony didn’t make an attempt to hide his grin. “Do you want to get there by limo or by helicopter?”

 

Tony saw regret flash through Stephen’s eyes and grinned wider.

 

* * *

 

Stephen quickly realized that what Tony had told him was a bold faced lie. He couldn't bring himself to be mad about it. 

 

From the very moment that the two of them entered the conference hall Stephen had to fight tooth and nail not to be left behind in the dust. Tony skipped to one science project to the other, interacting with the kids who had built them in a playfully snarky way. 

 

Stephen could see passion sparkling in his eyes with not a trace of boredom to see. Tony loved being here. He loved doing this, Stephen could tell. 

 

Seeing the kids' starstruck reaction at having Tony Stark compliment their work was enough of a consolation for Stephen to bear having to squeeze through a crowd of excited college students in the attempt not to fall behind an enthusiastic Tony.

 

"What do you think?" Tony asked as they reached a more secluded part of the hall. 

 

A flush adored his still grinning expression. Ballpoint scribbles peeked out from under his sleeves where a discussion with a student had gotten heated enough to warrant mathematical emphasis and nobody had been able to produce a notepad quickly enough. 

 

Stephen hid a smirk at the blue ink stain that had somehow ended up on Tony's cheek. 

 

"You're not bored, are you?" Tony's expression dimmed ever so slightly. "We don't have to stay for much longer. I've almost finished the round. A bunch of people took pictures, should be enough to appease my PR department."

 

Stephen fought the urge to shake his head at Tony's ridiculous attempt to hold onto the excuse that had brought them here. "Don't worry about me. It's been... fun."

 

Tony shrugged, but couldn't downplay the way his eyes lit up. "I go to tons of these every year. Kind of prefer the small ones, to be honest."

 

Stephen could see why. The conference hall was tiny and cramped, but it also served to feel casual in a way that huge scale conferences failed to. Tony certainly wouldn't have the time to spend it hearing about the kids' projects, rather than hold interviews or speeches or whatever else was expected of him with for the media coverage.

 

"That last kid looked like he was about to faint," Stephen noted drily. "What did you do?"

 

"Oh, the usual. Complimented his project. Suggested a few additions."

 

Stephen raised an eyebrow. "And?"

 

"... I may have also paid for said additions. He mentioned that he was out of materials."

 

"Of course you did."

 

"They're so poor," Tony whined, his voice obnoxious and over-the-top. "And they're still somehow making their projects work. I don't know if I should feel sad or proud."

 

Clearly, Tony managed to do both. Stephen wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the day every single of the students had gotten a cheque covering the cost of their next few projects and more – even the ones Tony wouldn't have had the time to talk to himself. 

 

"Um. I'm sorry, uh... Mr. Stark?" 

 

Tony and Stephen both turned to face a timidly smiling girl. Behind her several more teenagers were engulfed in a heated discussion, although all of them fell silent at realizing that the two of them were watching. One of them stuck out her hand and waved. Tony smirked and waved back.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, but my friends and I were talking about those adjustments you mentioned. We think that it might be possible to improve the parameters to better facilitate the electronic harmonization. If we adjusted the frequency to just about–”

 

Stephen quickly tuned out the rest of the science talk. He was able to follow the basics despite engineering being somewhat removed from his preferred field – especially considering that the presentations had been designed to impress regular, non-tech savvy people just the same. Faced with Tony Stark, however, the kids quickly dove into technical details at such a rapid speed that Stephen was quickly left behind in the dust. 

 

Stephen found that he barely minded at all. The outing may have been somewhat out of his comfort zone – especially seeing as he'd avoided going among people since the accident. It had also achieved what Tony not-so-subtly had aimed for by distracting Stephen from his injuries and the long road of recovery he had yet to overcome.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna take a break from the internet for as long as it takes me to go see Endgame. For sake of my updating schedule I’m here, but don’t expect to hear from me beyond that lol. I’m gonna drop the chapter and turn my WiFi right back off :P No chances of me getting spoiled, nossir!
> 
> To anybody who might be preparing a negative comment about Wanda right now: Please keep it to yourself for now and focus on something else. I’m trying my hardest to write a three-dimensional version of a character I didn’t particularly like in the movies here, and that’s enough of a challenge as it is. That one tag isn’t up there for nothing!
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> ~Gwen


	11. Chapter 11

The situation with Tony didn't improve. He wanted them to think that it did – after all, he'd reacted to Natasha's nudge and started to spend more time with the team. But she soon realized that agreeing to socialize wasn’t the same as opening up to them. 

 

Tony was acting oddly, and Natasha couldn't explain why. His odd avoidance towards them ever since they'd found the scepter, whatever he'd been thinking when creating Vision, and now Strange? He'd never even mentioned the guy before, and now he was living with them at the tower?

 

Natasha hated not knowing what was going on. She hated it even more when it concerned someone close to her. Natasha had never had many genuine friends, and she had even less left. This team held most of the very few people she wanted to hold onto. 

 

It felt like one of those people had started slipping away from her without her realizing it. 

 

_ "Iron Man, what's your status?" _ Steve asked over the coms, not for the first time since the start of the mission.

 

Natasha shared a glance with Clint. Normally, it was a chore and a half to get Tony to keep quiet and concentrate during their missions. His chattering on the coms had become expected background noise. He'd never had to be reminded about sharing his status before.

 

There was a pause.  _ "Right," _ Tony said, finally.  _ "There’s no shielding for any part of the building. Checking for surveillance systems or defense mechanisms now."  _

 

_ "... Got it,"  _ Steve said after waiting for Tony to say more, reluctance heavy in his voice.

 

None of them were stupid. Tony may have had the common sense not to allow a stranger – a civilian – access to the team's coms. But it wasn't difficult to put two and two together and deduce that he had set up a separate line just for him and his new friend, and was only switching to the team's when absolutely necessary. 

 

Natasha wasn't entirely sure what a civilian was able to offer in terms of information or strategic advice that the Avengers couldn't, but despite his superficial attitude, Tony was anything but careless. She hadn't taken him for the type of person to risk the outcome of a mission because of a mindless distraction. 

 

So, if Strange wasn’t a distraction, what was he? And why did his presence affect Tony’s behavior towards the team?

 

Natasha hated not knowing, and she wouldn’t stand for.

 

_ "Guys," _ Tony said, his voice flickering through the com line at last.  _ "We're not alone anymore." _ A grunt of surprise followed, but nothing more. 

 

_ "Iron Man."  _ Steve's voice cut through the silence sharply.  _ "Iron Man, status." _

 

Without waiting for an answer, Natasha and Clint broke out into a run towards Tony's last known location. Steve was most likely doing the same. Natasha felt a frown bubbling up behind her blank expression. If a lack of communication was going to cost them the mission – and Tony – Natasha was going to make him regret it. 

 

_ "Tony, where are you?!" _ Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve from afar. He held one ear to his com without slowing down his sprint. 

 

At last, they were given a location.  _ "I found the twins," _ Tony said curtly.  _ "Backup would be appreciated." _ There was a dull impact and a crackling sound. Then nothing. 

 

If Tony came out of this in one piece, Natasha was going to kill him. 

 

* * *

 

_ "Seriously?" _ Stephen's laughter filtered through the com line, proving that he'd decided not to take Tony's dilemma seriously.  _ "Magic and you 'don't agree'? What does that even mean?" _

 

Tony let out an insulted huff, keeping one eye on the data displayed on his HUD. "No need for that kind of tone. Look, I can make my armor faster, stronger, more durable. But magic? That's just cheating. Suddenly my sensors aren't working and my armor might as well be made out of cardboard."

 

_ "You're exaggerating. Besides, we've already established that Miss Maximoff did not have the opportunity to master her abilities yet." _

 

_ "Iron Man, what's your status?" _

 

Tony almost cursed. "One moment," he said to Stephen, then switched com lines to the one he shared with the Avengers. "Right. There's no shielding for any part of the building. Checking for surveillance systems or defense mechanisms now."

 

He doubted he'd find any. The twins were on the run and unlikely to have found backup in form of another HYDRA base in such a short amount of time. 

 

By preventing Ultron from going rogue, Tony had made sure that the twins were missing their temporary ally in their quest to destroy the Avengers. However, he had also made it much more difficult to guess their next course of action. Would they be trying to get away from the Avengers first and foremost? Or were they driven by their anger to a degree that would make them fight despite the odds?

 

His HUD notified him of a life sign: a single, lonely ping before it was gone again. It could have easily been a glitch of his sensors. Tony's tech didn't do glitches. 

 

"They're here," he said to Stephen, and, switching over to the Avengers, "Guys. We're not alone anymore."

 

An energy pulse darted his way and forced Tony to dodge with a grunt of surprise. The attack missed his shoulder by inches. 

 

"Hello there," he said, attempting to salvage his dignity by righting his body into a proper, defensive stance. "Can't say I'm overly thrilled to meet you in person."

 

"I cannot say the same about you, either." Wanda's eyes were narrowed with a furious gleam to them. Red whisks of magic hovered all around her as though Tony's mere sight made her control over it slip. "Do you know who I am?"

 

"I do." Tony schooled his pained expression into one of grim resignation. What wouldn't he give to be able to skip this part. "I'm sorry about what happened to you."

 

Wanda paused. Perhaps she was surprised at the confession. "An apology isn't worth anything. It can’t change what happened."

 

"No," Tony agreed. "I suppose it can’t."

 

To Wanda's credit, she didn't waste time with an evil, deranged monologue about her motivations or plans to make Tony suffer a violent, gruesome death. This already put her up high on the list of people who'd tried to kill Tony out of vengeance.

 

"I found the twins," Tony said over the coms while dodging a barrage of menacing red. "Backup would be appreciated."

 

Pietro was too fast for his sensors. 

 

A blow knocked Tony to the ground, the sheer momentum of it forceful enough to pound a dent into his armor. Tony suppressed a grunt and rolled to his feet – only to fall back when electricity twitched over his armor and made his HUD shut down with a flicker. 

 

Pietro must have planted an EMP device on his suit. A souvenir from their time with HYDRA, perhaps? They couldn't seriously expect him to not have prepared for moments like these.

 

After mere seconds, JARVIS' voice was the first of his suit's functions that came back online. "Rebooting now, sir." 

 

"They aren't attacking," Tony muttered, frowning at the lack of physical assault on his armor. One would have thought they would have taken the opportunity of him being trapped and motionless in front of them. 

 

The first thing Tony saw once his HUD flickered back to life was Wanda bend over his armor, frowning and surrounded by swirls of deep red. A dull feeling of apprehension settled in his gut at the thought of what she'd been trying to do, closely followed by relief at her failure. 

 

"Nice try," he said, heaving himself up from his lying position. Wanda jerked back as though burned. "I'd wish you luck trying to breach the armor. Unfortunately you're not gonna get a second chance."

 

Wanda took Pietro by the arm and retreated several steps, a calculating gleam in her eyes. Tony took on a fighting stance, preparing for whatever she was going to try next. 

 

A few whispered words to her brother, and Wanda and Pietro disappeared in a blur. 

 

Tony narrowed his eyes, not willing to move out of his defensive position immediately. His com line rebooted and gave him something else to worry about. 

 

_ "–ony! Tony? If you don't say something in the next few seconds–" _

 

"It's fine," he said, cutting off Stephen while checking his armor for damage. He peeled off the metal disc that had latched onto it like a parasite – now useless. "I'm fine, don't worry. The armor held up. She couldn't get through it."

 

_ "Where is she now?" _

 

"Bailed with her brother. Probably a tactical retreat after their little plan didn't work out."

 

Tony didn't particularly want to know what exactly that plan had entailed. Nothing that involved Tony's head being screwed with sounded like something he particularly wanted to experience. 

 

_ "What does your team think about it?"  _ Stephen asked, and made Tony wince.

 

He wished he could simply put Stephen on the same com line they were using. Splitting his attention like he was doing now clearly wasn't working out. 

 

"The twins made a run for it," he said over the Avengers com line. "The girl, Wanda, tried to do something and it didn't work out. They're probably regrouping now."

 

There was a muffled hiss that sounded half like a curse, half like a breath of relief. 

 

_ "You can't just go radio silent like that, Tony!"  _ Steve snapped, concern lingering behind the frustration.  _ "We were this close to sending the Hulk after you!" _

 

Tony cringed. "I'm flattered," he said, "but fine. No need to bother Bruce on my behalf."

 

_ "It's not about that. We need to–”  _ Steve cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. He didn't sound happy when he added,  _ "We'll talk about this later. Let's just focus on the rest of the mission." _

 

Tony suppressed a sigh. He really needed to figure out a way to introduce Stephen to the team as a member, not as a random acquaintance. 

 

_ "Entering the building now," _ Natasha said.  _ "It looks like an old research lab. Abandoned, but lots of supplies left lying around." _

 

"Maybe they were looking for something?" Tony thought out loud. 

 

If they'd been here before, they might have come back in the knowledge of something worth retrieving. Some sort of device? A biological weapon? Tony genuinely hoped they wouldn't be dealing with a Winter Soldier situation. 

 

_ "If this is an abandoned HYDRA base, they might know their way around." _ Natasha said. 

 

Meaning that they might already have gotten what they'd come for. 

 

_ "We've got a problem." _ Steve's tone of voice immediately put Tony on edge.  _ "There's a bomb that's set to go off in two minutes." _

 

Considering the possible radius, it wasn't enough time to evacuate. By this point the twins were likely far, far away from their intended grave.

 

"On my way," Tony said, and, switching over to Stephen, "The twins planted a bomb. I'm going to try and diffuse it before it goes off."

 

If all else failed, JARVIS would be able to take over his suit and carry it high enough not to be a danger anymore.

 

Tony caught sight of Steve and slipped out of the armor, sprinting to where he was crouched down in front of a piece of machinery. "Alright, what have we got?" Tony muttered, already mentally reviewing the most likely model and ways to diffuse it. 

 

Tony stared at the broken computer monitor in front of him. There wasn't anything explosive within sight. 

 

"Is this a joke?" He turned to Steve, his heart pounding madly in his chest. 

 

He had time to spot glowing red eyes and widen his own in alarm before he was tackled from the side and his surroundings blurred. 

 

As sudden as it had started, it was already over. Tony stumbled as his involuntary ride halted in his tracks, catching himself on a nearby tree and heaving as his stomach protested at the ruthless change in location. He doubted that Pietro Maximoff would care if he pointed out that a regular human body was not built to move at his level of speed. 

 

"I gotta say," he said as soon as he was sure he wouldn't puke all over his shoes, "I'm impressed. Using Cap to lure me out of the armor? Wow. Bonus points for being creative and unpredictable."

 

Tony's mind was racing. JARVIS would have seen what had happened and notified the team. Without the armor, they wouldn't be able to find out his location. The research base was nowhere in sight, so Tony couldn't say how far away Pietro had brought him. 

 

JARVIS would be able to locate him – unless, of course, he currently had a brainwashed Captain America to deal with. He didn't know how far Wanda's manipulation went. 

 

The twins' stares were starting to unnerve him. "So," he said, even though the smart thing to do would have probably been to shut his mouth. "What now?"

 

"You look different than we'd expected," Pietro said. Hate shimmered in his eyes in the same way Wanda's did. 

 

Tony didn't have to look down at himself to know what he meant. His hair would be ruffled, his face flushed from the exercise of steering the armor. He was fairly sure there was a stain of motor oil on his undersuit from the last time he hadn't bothered to change while working on one of his projects in the garage. 

 

All in all, he didn't look anything like his TV presence, like the Merchant of Death the twins had no doubt imprinted in their mind as the cause for all of their suffering. 

 

Tony stood no chance fighting bare-handed against both meta humans – or even one of them. He supposed that left one course of action to attempt to ensure his continued survival. Stalling.

 

"If I'd known I'd be kidnapped today, I would have put more effort into how I looked." Tony didn't think he'd be successful trying to reason with either of them. In different circumstances, perhaps. Being on his own and at their mercy would only make them take his words as the rambling of a desperate man. 

 

He'd try his hand at making them gloat, instead. "What did you do to Cap?" he said, pretending not to know how Wanda's powers worked. "How'd you make him help you?"

 

"Does it scare you?" An ugly, self-satisfied smirk tugged at Pietro's lips. "Being confronted with a power you cannot understand?"

 

Taunts instead of gloating. Well, Tony would take what he could get. 

 

"He is defenseless," Wanda said. "We could put an end to this. We could end him, right now."

 

Her tone of voice made Tony pause. Before he could debate whether or not it was wiser to keep his mouth shut, he'd already started talking. "You sound really unsure about this, you know?"

 

Wanda scowled at him, magic twitching around her fingers as though it wanted to refute his words. However, she made no move to come closer. 

 

It dawned on Tony then. Despite all the questionable choices the twins had made since their family had been killed, at this point in time they had never murdered someone in cold blood before. Manipulation and brainwashing was not the same as actively stopping another person's heart – especially if it was outside of battle, without the justification of them fighting back. 

 

Even if it meant a higher chance of getting out of this alive, Tony didn't actually know where to go from here.

 

Wanda and Pietro weren't children by any stretch of the imagination, but Stephen was right in that they needed someone to guide them. That someone couldn't be Tony. 

 

"You don't have to do this," he said quietly, already knowing that nothing coming out of his mouth would make a difference. He'd lived through this exact situation, and Tony hadn't listened to Barnes, either. Logic and reason went flying out the window when confronted with the person you believed to have taken your family away from you. "There are other ways."

 

"None that are worth losing the satisfaction of finishing what we have started.”

 

Tony clenched his jaw. There was no doubt in Pietro's voice. 

 

His sister, however, still hesitated. Noting the same, Pietro briefly laid his hand on her shoulder. "I'll do it," he said, and disappeared in a blur. 

 

Tony didn't stand a chance. There was no way to keep up with Pietro's speed, nor to brace himself for the blow. Without the armor and with Pietro’s power, a single punch would shatter Tony's rib cage. 

 

He didn't have the time to so much as close his eyes. Pietro materialized in front of him, his fist raised as though he planned to punch a hole straight through his body. 

 

Then he was gone.

 

Wanda cried out in surprise and rage as Tony struggled to comprehend what had happened. A quick peek down at his body proved that Pietro hadn't so much as caused a scratch. Surely, he hadn't abandoned his sister? But where was he?

 

Only then, through the wild pounding of his increased heart rate did Tony notice the labored breathing behind him. As well as the shimmering, lightly orange shield that built a barrier between him and Wanda.

 

"S-Stephen?" he said, whirling around to face his unkempt, oddly flustered looking friend. His hands were a shaky mess, but he held them raised in front of his body, pointing at the barrier. Tony could do nothing but stare. "How did you get here?"

 

"JARVIS told me what happened. Nobody could reach you anymore." He shrugged, the carelessness of the gesture ruined by his strained breathing. "So I portaled."

 

"You've never been here before," Tony said, not quite sure why he was arguing something that had saved his life. 

 

Stephen met Tony's eyes, a mild daze clouding his glance. Apparently he hadn't quite registered what he'd managed to do himself. "I know. I pictured you."

 

Before Tony had the chance to latch onto that discovery – he and Stephen would have a field day exploring the new possibilities it opened up for his powers – a snarl tore them out of their conversation. Something impacted with Stephen’s shield and made him flinch, but he managed to hold onto it.

 

"Where did you send him?!" Wanda cried, her voice audible despite the barrier between them. She did not look happy at having seen her twin disappear into a portal right in front of her. "Where is he?!"

 

"Safe," Stephen said, "but momentarily incapacitated."

 

While his voice sounded as confident as it always did, Tony's eyes kept being drawn to the shaky quality of his stance. The two portals he had conjured – the one to bring him here and the one to send Pietro somewhere he couldn't cause trouble – seemed to have taken a lot out of him. And that wasn’t even considering the still active shielding spell.

 

"Can you make another portal?" Tony murmured, quietly enough that Wanda wouldn't hear. 

 

He winced as another of her attacks made contact with the shield. 

 

Stephen paused, considering the question. Without taking his eyes off their opponent, he muttered back, "Unlikely."

 

Tony pressed his lips together in a narrow line. Even if Stephen did manage to make another portal, they had lost the element of surprise. Wanda would know that it was coming, and would be able to defend herself. 

 

Tony quickly reviewed the tools he had at his disposal. Without his armor, he couldn't defend against Wanda's power any more than he could against Pietro's. But without Pietro's speed to overwhelm him, he had at least a chance to fight back. 

 

"Distract her for me, will you?" he muttered, mentally starting to wipe up a half-baked, desperate plan. 

 

Stephen's lip curled in discontent. "And how do you propose I do that?" 

 

"Preferably without getting close enough to be brainwashed." 

 

Stephen scoffed at the admittedly unhelpful advice. 

 

"Try to keep her talking," Tony added, "goading her with her brother might work."

 

"It might also enhance my chances of being killed faster." Stephen paused. He looked down at his hands, then at Wanda. A calculating glint twitched through his eyes, his expression growing tight with apprehension.

 

Tony was about to remind him that they didn't exactly have a lot of time to work with when he broke out of his thoughtful silence on his own. 

 

"I have a better idea," he muttered, his tone suggesting that he wasn't using the word 'better' out of conviction. 

 

His tone put Tony’s teeth on edge.

 

"I don't know how well it will work. I should be able to buy you some time, at the very least. In the best case," Stephen paused. "Well. I am not entirely sure which is the best case." 

 

Tony definitely didn't like the sound of  _ that. _ "Stephen," he said, pushing urgency into his voice, "what are you going to–”

 

Stephen’s barrier shattered like glass, and Tony wasn’t sure whether Stephen had dismissed the spell or whether Wanda had finally managed to break through. 

 

Stephen didn't bother with hand signs his broken fingers would have been unable to form. In this case, he didn't appear to need them. He punched the air in front of him into shards, cracked like a broken mirror. Both he and Wanda – caught up in the range of his attack – were surrounded, making it look like they were inside a mirror room at a carnival. 

 

Stephen thrust his hands downwards and the shards disappeared, taking him and Wanda with them.

 

Tony was left behind, staring at the spot they had disappeared from.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. Endgame... certainly happened. And it only took a hastily written three-part [fix-it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18693325/chapters/44333392) to recover from the pain it caused me :P Feel free to check it out, I've got two parts of it posted.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful **PyrothTenka** , **Igornerd** and **To Mockingbird**!
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://xxgwenstacyxx.tumblr.com/my_stories) if you like!
> 
> ~Gwen

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Born Of The Same Impulse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544557) by [soaracrossthesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soaracrossthesky/pseuds/soaracrossthesky)




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